


Kiss Me Like A Lover

by flinchflower, nubianamy



Series: The Donutverse [21]
Category: Glee
Genre: BDSM Scene, Discipline, Dom/sub, Donutverse, Family Drama, Fivesome - M/M/M/M/M, Heavy BDSM, M/M, Multi, Poetry, Polyamory, References to Shakespeare, Schmoop, Sex Club, Singing, St. Andrew's Cross, Tattoos, Threesome - M/M/M, Unconventional Families, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 23:54:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 79,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2892740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flinchflower/pseuds/flinchflower, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nubianamy/pseuds/nubianamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The entire family travels to Tessera for Valentine's Day weekend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thursday

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published as chapters 25-31 of The Fingers of Your Fire. This story follows Dark and Dangerous Like A Secret.
> 
> This portion of FoYF is a collaborative interlude written with Flynn Anthony about the family’s trip to Tessera. It takes place between episodes 1.17 and 1.18 over Valentine’s Day weekend, 2010. There are no canon-based scenes in this interlude, just four days full of sexual and disciplinary exploration of all kinds on the part of the three boys and Adam and Carl, as well as an arc involving Burt and his awareness of what’s happening within the family and with Carole’s history. You also get a more in-depth glimpse into the setting of Tessera and its staff, and we see Tess and Adam’s first interactions. We’ve had a lot of fun writing this story over the past year, and I’m pleased to provide it here in several parts for your enjoyment. 
> 
> You can listen to the 8track playlist for Fingers of Your Fire [here](http://8tracks.com/nubianamy/the-fingers-of-your-fire) (part of the enormous FoYF one is still [on YouTube here](http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLc72s_nGT2yT62f9-u6XxCAAE_VjrOVen), although people keep deleting the videos I link to!). I will also include links to all songs throughout the story, for reference.
> 
> -amy and flinchflower

Carl glanced at his cell phone as he pulled into the parking lot, smiling to himself at the string of messages from Kurt.  He paused long enough to send a brief reply. Kurt was the least likely of all three boys to trust that Carl would actually take care of what he said he would do.  He knew that didn’t mean Kurt thought he wasn’t capable of dealing with small details, but that Kurt himself was consumed by them.  The last three texts had been about the Navigator, which he’d reluctantly lent to Carl to drive to the airport.  

This most recent text had said:  _Jacob should be off the plane first.  A. says he’s not really on duty, but I don’t think Jacob knows how to be off duty._   

Carl simply replied:  _Thank you, I’ll look for him._   

Of course he knew who Jacob was by now, and Timothy, and all the myriad people Finn and Puck and Kurt had met in California last month.  The only one who meant anything to him was Adam.  Not because Adam was a celebrity; Carl couldn’t have cared less about that.  No, he was interested because Adam purported to be Puck’s Top, and possibly Kurt’s as well.  Carl had promised to look after Kurt and Puck for Tess until they got to Tessera, and that meant he was going to see for himself what kind of a man this Adam was. 

He had spoken to Adam a few times on the phone, and he’d seemed cordial enough.  But Carl had gleaned more meaningful evidence from Puck and Kurt’s behavior after they’d returned to Lima.  The kind of quiet confidence he’d seen in both of them:  that was the mark of time spent with a good Top.  He still wasn’t absolutely certain that Kurt really  _had_  been Topped by Adam -- it wasn’t exactly his place to ask -- but he had his suspicions.  

Tess had routed Carl through the Lima airstrip on his way back from Tessera before, but he’d never had a reason to have to worry about the quality of security.  They’d seemed willing to cooperate when Tess’ head of security, Phillip, had spoken to them on the phone, explaining exactly who was coming in and when.  Carl was counting on Adam’s ability to stay under the radar, but he also anticipated that might be a bit much to ask of a flamboyant rock star.  He had some amount of experience with rock stars, but none of them were quite as over-the-top as Adam Lambert.

Carl himself had dressed in business casual, but he supposed he could have come in scrubs or a track suit and it wouldn’t have been any harder for Adam to find him, not at this tiny little airport at eleven o’clock at night.  He’d been in larger bus terminals. The staff at the desk watched him with tired, curious eyes as he shifted from sitting to standing and back again.  When the little jet landed and taxied to a halt outside the terminal, he stood by the windows to watch the passengers disembark and hurry down the stairs to the dark tarmac.  Carl frowned, muttering, “So much for security.”  But, really, there was no one around but him.  

The first guy in the building was young and friendly-faced, perhaps in his early to mid twenties, wearing a baseball cap and a plain blue hoodie.  There was nothing about him that screamed  _security,_  but Carl thought he must be Jacob simply because of the slender young man beside him.  He resembled Sarah more than Puck, his wispy curls artfully messy.  Carl supposed Kurt would have approved of his tailored clothes.  

The last person to arrive didn’t look much like the pictures Puck and Kurt had shown him of the glamorous television personality.  He didn’t appear to be wearing a speck of makeup, and his black hair, though somewhat shaggy, was combed back in a casual style.  He had on a plain leather jacket and black t-shirt with jeans.  But Carl could see the boots peeking out from underneath those jeans, and there was no hiding the 0-gauge holes in his ears.  Carl smiled, taking a few steps forward.

“I think I must be your ride,” he said.  

Adam gave him a tired smile in return, hitching his bag up higher on his shoulder as he held out his hand.  Carl shook it.

“You’re Carl?” said Adam.  Carl nodded, while at the same time the kid in the baseball cap sighed.  

“He could be anybody, man.  You don’t  _ask._ ”  He grinned at Carl, looking him up and down. “You ask for ID.  Or you bring along your off-duty security, who’s already seen pictures.”  

The coiffed boy raised a delicate eyebrow.  “Guys, this is  _Lima._   There’s nobody here who’d want to do anything to you, especially not in the middle of the night.  You might run into a tractor if you’re not careful.  Maybe a cow.”

Carl shrugged.  “When you’re the one responsible, it pays to be cautious.  I’d be happy to show you identification.”

“Nah,” said the guy in the cap.  “Like I said, I’ve seen pictures of you.  And Adam, don’t give me that look.  I told you I was still on duty until we walked through Tessera’s doors.  At that point, I’ll start clocking my vacation hours, but not before.”  He grinned more broadly.  “Until then, you’re just going to have to put up with me.  I’m Jacob, by the way, and this is Timothy.”

Carl shook their hands, nodding at Timothy.  “You look like your sister.”

“Actually, she looks like me,” Timothy replied glibly.  Jacob gave one polite cough, and Timothy paused, flickering a glance at Jacob, before looking back at Carl and trying a smile.  “Uh... yeah, I suppose I do.”

Carl hid his own smile with long practice.  Jacob was definitely the one in charge of this situation.  Adam, on the other hand, looked distracted and just this side of exhaustion.  He beckoned to the three young men to follow him.  “Come on.  I imagine you have bags to claim.”

While they acquired their luggage from the attendant at the desk, loading it off the conveyor belt from the tarmac, Carl sent Kurt a text:  _They’re here.  We’re on our way into town._   He didn’t expect a reply.  Considering the state Kurt had been in for the past two days, he figured this message would send him into enough of a tizzy.  If Adam  _wasn’t_  Topping him, Kurt was sure as hell going to have to get what he needed from Finn, or in some other way. 

Other than to explain the plans for that night, Carl didn’t bother Adam with small talk on the short drive into Lima.  “Burt’s set up places for all of you to sleep at his house.  We’ll start driving early tomorrow, but I figured you’d want a little time to decompress before having to deal with Kurt’s dad -- who, admittedly, is a good guy.”

“Burt and I have been talking since before the January trip,” Adam said.  “Mostly texts, but some phone calls.  I don’t think I could be doing this thing with Kurt if he wasn’t okay with it.”

Carl smirked.  “No, you wouldn’t be.”  He stopped himself before he said more, though there were plenty of things he could have said.  

Adam looked at him.  Carl could feel it, not just see it out of the corner of his eye as he guided the Navigator cautiously along the exit ramp.  There was an assessing adult weight to it that Carl liked.  He’d had serious doubts that Puck’s weekend hookup with this musician had been a good idea, but what he’d seen so far of Adam was beginning to change his mind.

He pulled the Navigator into the parking lot beside his Corvette and led the three men to the entrance to his office.  The lights were still on, and he could see Angela sitting behind the front desk.  She came to the door and unlocked it as they approached.  

“Good evening,” she said.  “Sir.  Your boy is waiting in your office.  Kurt and Puck are upstairs.  There’s coffee here and up in the octagon room.  May I offer anyone a snack?” 

“Coffee would be great,” Timothy said, smiling.  

“Thank you, Angela.”  He turned to Jacob.  “Jacob, Angela can get you anything you need.  I’ll show Adam upstairs myself.”

Jacob held out a hand as Carl moved to walk around the desk toward the stairs.  “How about I come up with you, just long enough to see where Adam’ll be?”

“Jacob,” Adam said.  His voice was quiet, but Carl could clearly hear the Voice lurking behind his exhaustion.  “I’ll be fine.  Just chill, okay?”

“I promise, they’ll be completely safe on the second floor,” Carl assured Jacob.  “The back stairwell leads outside to the alley and the door locks behind, in case of an emergency. The front door is the only access point of entry to the building.”

He watched Jacob relax somewhat, glancing up.  “What about the roof?”

“For fuck’s sake, J-Baby,” said Adam testily.  “This isn’t  _Die Hard._   Can I go upstairs now?”

Jacob rolled his eyes, gesturing at the staircase.  “Fine. You’ve got boys waiting for you, I get it.”

Carl put a hand on his shoulder as he climbed the stairs beside Adam.  “You should probably know that cursing’s frowned upon at Tessera. That kind of language would have earned me a swat from any of the senior staff.  It’s a pet peeve of Tess’s.”

“Mmmm.”  Adam considered him.  “And you really think Jacob would let them put their hands on me?”

“I think Jacob’s going to be off duty,” Carl said, “and you’ll be in the hands of Philip and  _his_  boys.  And they answer to Tess. They wouldn’t harm a hair on your hide, but they’d give you whatever kind of discipline they needed to to keep you safe. Nobody’s going to blink an eye at you being a big-shot musician.  Tessera’s had senators, foreign diplomats, executives from Fortune 500 companies -- and all of them got their butts spanked.”

Adam paused at the top of the stairwell, surveying the dim octagonal room before him.  “Carl... is it okay if I call you that?” Carl nodded, and Adam went on, leaning against the wall, arms crossed.  “First of all, I’m not a ‘big-shot’ anything. I’m a kid who got lucky on  _Idol_ and got what he’d always wanted: a recording contract.  No matter what you might have pushed at you by the media these days, I’m not anything special.  Here, with Noah and Kurt, I’m just Adam. Got it?”

Carl nodded again, somewhat nonplussed.  Adam looked back up the stairs, his eyes focused on something beyond the walls of his office.  

“And second, whatever you might think of me, I’m really here for Kurt and Noah.  I’m not interested in comparing dick sizes with you or anybody else.  So you can tone down the defense a little, all right?”

“Fair enough,” Carl replied evenly.  Adam nodded once, and they continued on their way.  

Carl directed him toward room 4, putting the keys to the Navigator into his hands.   Adam looked a little surprised to see them there.  

“Angela will wait with you and Jacob and Timothy until you’re done.  She’ll lock up the office and give you directions to Burt’s.  I’ll be downstairs in my office for a little while before I head out.”  He offered a conciliatory smile.  “We’ll be spending the weekend together, the five of us.  I think the least we can do is try to get along.”

“Fine with me,” Adam said.  He jingled the keys.  “You’re assuming I drive?”

“Sure.  You’ve got the Mustang.”  Carl couldn’t resist giving Adam’s shoulder a pat before heading back toward the stairs.  “I watched that whole season of  _Idol._   You should have won.”

Carl smiled to himself as he arrived at the bottom of the stairs, listening to Angela and Jacob laughing at something Timothy was saying.   _She could make a penguin feel comfortable on the Serengeti._ With Angela there, and Adam occupied with Kurt and Puck upstairs, he felt a lot more comfortable heading down the hall to his own office, where his boy was waiting for him.

Carl paused in the doorway, watching him.  Finn was sitting on the couch, bent over his math textbook and frowning into his notebook as he wrote.  He looked up briefly to smile at Carl, but went back to his notebook right away.  The table was small enough, and the couch low enough, to make Finn’s huddled form look particularly lanky and teenage-boyish.  

“Math not going so well?”

“Almost done, actually,” Finn said, “but I have this landform map to finish labeling, too.  I think Mr. Wright forgot he’s supposed to be teaching us American  _history_  and that we all had geography freshman year?  Anyway, it’s probably better than having actual homework over a long weekend.”

“I don’t quite get the precedent for a long weekend over Valentine’s Day, but I’m not going to complain.  Not if it means we get to go to Tessera together.”  Carl ran a hand over Finn’s shoulder, watching his eyes soften.  “I can’t wait to show you everything.”

“Oh, yeah,” Finn murmured, smiling up at him.  Carl bent down so his mouth was even with Finn’s ear.

“Are you wearing number three?” he whispered.  Finn blushed beautifully.  

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, I think you should finish your homework, then.  You shouldn’t keep it in for more than a few hours, not until your body gets used to having something inside for longer periods of time.”  Carl placed a quick kiss on his head before crossing to his desk, seating himself in the leather chair and reaching for a stack of patient intake forms.  “You have plenty of time, though.  I suspect Adam will be keeping your boys busy for a while.”

Carl stifled his smile as Finn’s breath quickened, before he visibly refocused on his paper.  A few minutes later, he asked, very casually, “So what do you think of Adam?”

“I think I just met him,” said Carl.  “And whatever I end up thinking about him won’t mean much.  He’s not my boyfriend.”

Finn cocked his head thoughtfully.  “Is there a name for your boyfriend’s boyfriend?”

“Finn,” Carl said, leaning on the word a little.  Finn bent quickly over his paper again.  

Five minutes later, he sighed, closing his book and packing it and the notebook into his backpack.  The next notebook he opened had a map of the United States bearing symbols.  Carl couldn’t see details from where he was sitting, but Finn was frowning again.

“Choose three major geographical landforms of the United States,” Finn read aloud.  “For each, write one paragraph describing the landform, a second explaining the ways in which the economics and politics of that region were impacted by the presence of the landform, and a third predicting the --”

“ _Finn,”_  Carl said again, and Finn closed his mouth, exhaling through his nose with frustration.  Carl sighed, standing up.  “All right.  Come on, you need some help with your attention.”

The expression on Finn’s face when he knew Carl was about to spank him never failed to fascinate Carl.  It was a combination of anticipation, resignation and shame.  Carl had asked him about the latter once, and Finn had explained:  _if I really were a good boy, I wouldn’t need a spanking._   

Carl tried to explain it didn’t work that way, that the spanking was simply a tool to restore balance and focus, and to judge a person’s morality for needing a spanking was something like judging a person’s teeth for needing to be brushed.  He knew Finn understood this clearly when it came to his boys.  He also appeared to understand it about himself, at least in moments of lucidity.  But needing to be Topped manifested itself in different ways in different people.  Carl knew, when Finn got distracted and broody, the best way to resolve it was to be matter-of-fact and efficient.  But when the balance tipped over too far into guilty, he needed to bring other strategies into play.

“Show me that homework, would you?” Carl said, sitting next to him on the couch.  Finn, who’d already stood and begun to unbutton his jeans, paused in confusion and sat back down slowly.  He handed the paper to Carl, who looked it over and nodded.  “This seems pretty straightforward, if a little time-consuming.  Do you know which landforms you’ll choose?”

Finn pointed at the Ohio River, the Coast Range of mountains along the Pacific and the Great Plains.  “These, I guess?  I’ll have to do some reading about the politics parts, but I know the landforms.”

“All right.  Start writing those paragraphs, then, one on each page.”  He took Finn’s notebook out of his startled hands and set it down on the center of the coffee table.  “On your knees, there.”

“Uh...”  Finn was still mystified, but he followed Carl’s directions, leaning on his elbows on the table, pen in hand.  He waited for further instructions, but Carl simply sat there, one hand on Finn’s lower back, and patted him gently.  

“Don’t worry.  You’ve got this.”

Finn’s pen wandered a little before he finally wrote  _1\. Ohio River_  at the top of his blank page.  His writing wasn’t too hard to read, and although Carl suspected Finn would do better typing his assignments, Carl also knew the value of the physical act of writing to calm a scattered mind.  He kept his hand on Finn’s back, stroking it idly, and when Finn completed his first paragraph and awkwardly turned the page to begin the second, Carl reached around and unfastened his jeans. Finn laughed, trying to turn his head to look, but Carl firmly redirected him back to his paper.

“Uh, I don’t think that’s going to help me focus,” Finn pointed out.  Carl smiled, tugging his jeans down. 

“Trust me.”

He had no question that Finn did.  Asking him to do it -- no,  _telling_  him -- in that way had the effect of eliminating all the doubts Finn might be experiencing about whether or not he  _could._   When Carl told him, he just  _did_  it.

Carl wriggled the jeans down over Finn’s hips.  He left the boxers on, but replaced his hand on Finn’s back, putting a little pressure on the base of his spine.  Finn shifted his hips and kept writing.  

“That’s my boy,” Carl murmured, and Finn ducked his head, his ears red.  Carl resisted reaching around to grope him -- that really  _would_  distract him.  Even if it would be fun.  

Finn turned another page, the pen moving more quickly now, with more fluid purpose.  Carl could see the way he was breathing more evenly, his shoulders relaxing further as Carl stroked his back.  When Finn got to the end of the third paragraph, he glanced back.  

“I’m sorry, I just had some ideas for the next part. Is it okay if I --?”

This was the part where Carl either wanted to wrap him up and smother him with kisses, or take him to bed and fuck him senseless.  Neither one was going to happen, however, so Carl just nodded and said, “Of course.  Go ahead.  How are your knees?”

“Fine,” Finn said absently, already halfway through the second paragraph.  He leaned over a little further against the table, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck before launching into the third.  

Carl lifted his hand off Finn’s back and waited.  It took Finn a few moments to react, but when he did, his hips gave another little squirm, and then another.  He was seeking the contact of Carl’s hand; Carl didn’t even think Finn realized he was doing it. He replaced the hand upon one cheek of Finn’s boxer-covered buttocks, and let it fall with barely an audible impact -- but he could feel it on his palm, vibrating with possibility.  Finn grunted, but did not stop writing. 

Carl did that again several times, each time waiting for Finn’s physical response to the absence of his hand, and each time bringing it down a little harder.  In this way he could maximize the sound of each swat without damaging his own hand, or Finn’s behind.  Even hitting as hard as he could was not enough to leave major bruises.  The caning of last weekend had healed almost completely.

_And I’m not going to have you arriving at Tessera already marked up,_  Carl thought, smiling to himself.   _Not with so many ways to mark you while you’re there._

He watched Finn flip back in the notebook to the first two paragraphs.  The way his actions were slowing, Carl could tell he was reaching the end of his stamina for academic work.  

“You know,” he said, moving his hand a little lower on Finn’s buttocks, “I bet working on this tomorrow in the car, while your driver offered suggestions about what you could write, would be stressful for some.  But not for you.”

“No,” Finn agreed, with a little sigh.  “That actually sounds like a really good idea.”

“Yes, I’d be happy to help like that.”  He pressed his palm more firmly against the subtle bulge in the back of Finn’s boxers, where the flanged base of the hickory plug was seated behind his tailbone.  Finn blew out a breath and dropped his pen on the table, and Carl smiled.  “I think it’s time for you to finish up now.”

Finn bit his lip, leaning in against the pressure of Carl’s hand, but Carl wasn’t about to give it to him that easily.  He resumed his hand’s tracing along Finn’s backbone, up to the neck and back down again.  Each time Carl reached the base of his spine, Finn whimpered.

“I imagine your boys will be finishing up pretty soon,” he added.  “They’re in room number four.  The one with the bath.”

“Mmmm.”  Finn’s eyes were drooping closed, his cheek pressing against his own wrist.  “I remember that one.”

Carl’s smile deepened.  “Yes.  And I suspect they’re appreciating the opportunity to relax together, after being apart for the past month.  There’s so much you can do in a bath that large.”

Finn’s mouth opened, letting out a moan.  He adjusted his knees, spreading them a little wider.  

“And Adam was clearly exhausted.  I’m sure he would let your boys take good care of him, there in the bath.”

“God.”  Finn licked his lips and swallowed.  “Carl, I —“

Carl used the flat of his hand to slap Finn’s ass, angling it for maximum impact on the inside of his spread thighs.  Finn flinched, crying out, with the kind of neediness that went right to Carl’s cock.  “Try again, boy.”

“Sir,” Finn answered quickly, “yes, sir, please —“

He kept his voice silky, though he was feeling just as much anticipation as Finn was.  “What do you need, Finn?”

“Your — your hand.”  Finn sounded apologetic.  “Touching me?”

Carl swatted him again, in the same spot, and felt Finn jump, his hips thrusting forward uselessly against the smooth surface of the wooden table.  

“I didn’t ask what you would settle for.  I asked what you  _wanted._   Don’t try to hide from me.”

“Oh my god, oh my god,” he whined, his hands clenching on nothing, propped on the table.  “Sir…”

Three more swats, perfectly aimed.  Now the surface of Finn’s bottom was pink, shading to red.  “Tell me.  Beg me, if you like.”

Finn bumped back against Carl’s hand, his hips grinding in desperation.  “I want — you.  Inside me.  God,  _please,_  I can’t help it, I want you so much —“

“There’s no shame in wanting it, boy.”  Carl let his hand stroke up Finn’s beautifully bare back, returning to his ass.  He allowed his hands to rest on Finn’s hips, gripping them long enough to hear Finn’s gasp, then let him go.  “But I said no, and I meant no.  You have two beautiful boys upstairs who will ride you any time you ask.”  That drew another extended moan out of Finn.  “I suspect you’ve taken advantage of that.”

“Yeah,” Finn said, his voice strangled, “I have, I’ve — before you and I were even doing anything, before I even knew I wanted you, I would go home after a session with you and — and make Kurt fuck me.”

Carl controlled his own reaction as best as he could.  He wasn’t going to give up one iota of his advantage.  He placed a hand in the center of Finn’s back, pressing him into the table and holding him in place.  “You can take a minute to think about that.”

The sound of Finn’s breathing as it caught and continued and caught again, and the sight of Finn bent over the edge of the table, his jeans around his knees, gave Carl plenty to appreciate while he counted sixty seconds.  When he picked up his hand, Finn stayed exactly where he was.

“Now,” he said calmly.  “If you need me to take you, I can put you on your knees, and you may use your mouth on me.  You could beg for that, instead… or you could stay right here for a little while longer and tell me all the things you want me to do to you.”

Finn’s noises didn’t contain words, but he didn’t appear to be in discomfort, so Carl just waited, enjoying running his hand over all the exposed surfaces of Finn’s body.  When Finn rolled his head to the side, panting, he looked back at Carl with sweet, glorious devotion.

“Both would be good,” he said, grinning.  “Sir.”

Carl abandoned his posturing and laughed aloud, resting his arm on Finn’s back.  Finn laughed too, arching his back and leaning into Carl’s touch.

“I want − everything you want to take from me.”  Despite the laughter, Finn’s voice was hoarse and throaty with emotion.  “It’s not even a question.”

Carl breathed deeply.   _I want to take everything you have to give,_  he wanted to say, but there was an appropriate time for promises of that sort, and this wasn’t it.  He picked up Finn’s hand, interlacing their fingers, and led it below the table to grasp Finn’s cock.  He let Finn set a pace that pleased him -- and then he reclaimed his hand before pushing the table away from the couch far enough to allow Finn to turn around.

“Right now, I think my boy’s going to show me exactly how good he can be,” he said, unbuckling his pants and settling back.  “And he’s going to do his very best not to come first.”

* * *

Adam rested his knuckles on the thick wood before knocking lightly, three times, then opened the door.  Immediately he was met with the sound of bubbling water and the mild scent of chlorine.  It took him a moment or two for his eyes to adjust to the dimly lit room inside, but he could see one figure seated on the couch.  He took a slow step inside, then another, and closed the door behind himself.

“He fell asleep after his bath,” he heard Kurt’s voice say, low and mellow and sweet, “but I don’t think he’d mind being woken up.”

“Honey,” Adam said.  His face already ached with the force of his smile.  “Kurt.”

He followed the sound of Kurt to kneel before him, reaching out with both arms for a quick, awkward hug over Noah’s sleeping form.  Adam could see Noah more clearly now.  He touched his head with one hand, but Noah didn’t stir.

“I’m so glad to see you,” said Kurt.

“Yeah,” Adam agreed.  “Both of you. I missed you both so much.”  It was easier to admit that here, in person, where he knew Kurt wouldn’t have to feel as guilty for leaving Adam behind in California.  Kurt hung on, his cheek resting on Adam’s shoulder.  

“I really — I want to tell you the same thing, but I think I need to be in your arms when I do it, because I’m going to cry a lot.  Let me just —“  He shifted away from Noah, lifting his head to rest him gently on the couch, and placed a hand on his shoulder until he was sleeping quietly again.  Then he turned to Adam, his eyes already glistening with tears. 

“Honey,” Adam said again, and Kurt’s hands were grasping his scratchy, unshaven face, pulling him in for a kiss.  It was so much more passionate than the hour warranted, but Adam couldn’t help himself, responding with growing fervor until he was practically climbing onto Kurt’s lap.  

“Want you,” Kurt murmured, “want you so much, let me —“

“You’ve got me.  For three days, you’ve got me, honey, I’m yours.”  He kissed him again, pulling back to look at Kurt’s face in the moonlight.  There were narrow windows above them, Adam realized, like skylights, but shaped differently, and the light they brought into the room was surprisingly bright for this late.  He could clearly see Kurt’s smile.

“That sounds… amazing,” Kurt said breathlessly.  “I mean, I knew this, it’s not a surprise, and I’m still… wow.  Thank you so much for making the trip out here.”

“I would have come sooner if Monte had let me.  It’s been nonstop vocal training, getting me ready for the tour.  I’ve done long stretches with no vocal rest before, but it’s shaping up to look like over a hundred days of that, and — well.”  He brushed a fond thumb over Kurt’s lips.  “I’m not here to talk about work.”

The next kiss was slow, but no less passionate.  Adam could feel the way that Kurt’s body, responding to his, was so perfectly what he’d been missing.  It might have been enough to make him lose his senses entirely, if Noah hadn’t been there sleeping on the couch beside them.  Adam’s responsibility to him was still intact.  

“I hear I’m staying at your house tonight?” said Adam.  He couldn’t pull his hands away from Kurt’s face; he felt a little drunk on contact with his perfect skin.  Kurt nodded, his eyes bright.  “So… I’m supposing it would be best if I wasn’t trying to get into your pants on the first night I meet your father?”

“I — you’re probably right.  Though it’s not like he doesn’t know we’re — he knows that the three of us are —“  His words were interspersed with kisses, running his hands reverently through Adam’s hair, and he groaned.  “You’re saying I’m going to have to deal with you sleeping in the same  _house_  with me, but not in my  _bed?”_

“I’m saying that might be the most polite thing.”  But Adam had to admit that sounded like a nearly impossible situation.  He thought about the last series of texts that had passed between himself and Burt.  “Your dad’s already being unbelievably accommodating.  But it’s all right.  We’re here, and — oh.”  Kurt’s hands had let Adam’s hair go and were nesting between his legs, seeking purchase through his pants.  “Right now, Carl’s been kind enough to give us space and a little time to reconnect.”

Kurt looked hopeful.  “If you’re not too tired.  I know we’ll have time together all weekend, and this might not be the most comfortable place for it, but…”  He unbuckled Adam’s belt.  “I really want to feel your skin.”

They hurried out of their clothes as quickly as they could, Adam settling on the couch and holding out his arms, and Kurt immediately climbed on top of him, rubbing and writhing and making the most delicious noises.  Adam stifled his gasp, gripping Kurt by the waist.  He loved the way his hands felt on Kurt’s hips, his skin so pale and perfect that he knew his fingers would leave marks if he applied just a little too much pressure.  

“You’re not going to let me drive, are you?”  

Kurt paused, his expression aghast, but Adam laughed, pulling him down for another kiss.  

“It’s fine, honey.  I don’t have to be in charge of you here, no matter what the rules are at Tessera.”  He drew Kurt’s hands down to touch him again.  “I want you to do whatever feels good.”

It was sheer pleasure to feel Kurt wanting him like that, stroking both of them together, their movements quickly moving from gentle to urgent.  It was nearing a peak when Noah happened to stir, his sleepy sighs becoming groans as soon as he opened his eyes and saw who was beside him. 

“Oh,” Noah whispered, his voice rich and thick with sleep and desire.  “Fuck, lemme — come on, Kurt, I wanna get my mouth on him…”

It wasn’t until then that Adam realized Noah was already cuffed, his hands joined in front of him at the wrists.  He appeared to have enough leeway to touch himself, and he was obviously ready for that, his hips rutting against the leather of the couch — but he wasn’t.  

“All right, sweetheart,” Kurt agreed.  He climbed off Adam and moved behind Noah on the couch, shifting him until he was sitting up with his back upright, where Noah had been seated.  Then he drew Adam up onto his knees, straddling Puck with a straight back, putting his cock just about level with Noah’s mouth.  Noah stared up at Adam, looking completely overwhelmed, but Kurt simply stroked his bottom lip with one finger until he opened up.  Adam took it as a cue, nudging forward, and Noah’s lips closed around his cock, swallowing reflexively.  

“Oh, honey.”  He pushed forward again, watching Noah’s face for cues, but Noah wasn’t complaining.  On the contrary, he was nodding, leaning forward as best as he could to take more of Adam into his mouth.  Adam gave up trying to convince himself he shouldn’t feel guilty for wanting this, and just let his boy —  _his boy_  — serve him.  He growled, jerking back and thrusting forward again, harder.

“That’s so good,” Kurt said, no longer whispering.  His voice was so lyrical, the spoken words hit Adam’s ears like music.  Adam moaned, feeling Noah’s throat relax, and leaned forward, reaching for Kurt.  Kurt reached back gladly, and Adam felt the climax hit him, sudden and irrepressible, as they kissed over Noah’s head.  

“God,” he panted.  “God, that —“  His hand stroked Kurt’s cheek, and he watched him, shaking his head.  “The two of you.  It’s like a dream.”

“Not a dream,” Kurt assured him.  He captured Adam’s hand against his cheek, just for a moment, before letting him go and shifting his grip to Noah’s shoulders.  “It’s real.”

Noah sat up as best as he could, letting Kurt give him support from behind as he recovered.  While Kurt reached around him and unlocked the cuffs, he didn’t take his eyes off Adam, like he couldn’t quite believe they were occupying the same space.   _I can understand that feeling,_ he thought.  Then Adam smiled, and Noah made a soft cry, launching himself forward into Adam’s arms.  He held on tight enough to stifle Adam’s breath.  

“Fuck,” he said, bewildered.  “Kind of stupid to be surprised, but — you’re  _here.”_ He laughed.  “At  _Carl’s.”_   

Adam laughed, too, cupping Noah’s head in one hand and holding it to his chest.  “I’m here.  And I know exactly what you mean.  It was just as surreal for me to see you at home in my kitchen, wearing nothing but that apron.”  He kissed Noah’s cheek, his chin, the corner of his mouth.  “But I think I might be the only one who’s gotten off this evening, and that just won’t do if I’m going to come back to your house and be expected to sleep in a bed without you.”

“What?”  Noah jerked back, his  _I-want_  line appearing out of nowhere.  He glared at Kurt, who laughed softly.  “Fuck that, Kurt!”

“It wasn’t my idea,” he protested.  “I’m all about having  _both_  of you in my bed tonight.”  He took Noah’s hand, sliding a hand up his bare arm, encircling his neck.  “Did you bring the collar you had for us in LA, Adam?  Because if not, you can use the one we bought for Noah.”

“I brought it,” he assured Kurt, smiling, and delighted in Noah’s groan.  “If you don’t mind me putting that one on him, instead of yours.”

“I really don’t think that’s my call.”  But Noah was already nodding hungrily, enthusiastically, making them both laugh.  Adam reached out and drew the two boys into his arms.  

“You feel so good.  I’m never going to want to let you go.”

“Okay, okay!” Kurt exclaimed.  He reached for his pants, digging out his phone, dialing and holding it to his face, illuminating their collective naked embrace.  “We’re going to solve this… dad?  Yes, the plane landed.  He’s here.  He’s  _here,_  in Lima.”  His smile was brilliant.  “I was hoping I could just sleep at Noah’s apartment tonight. … I know, but I  _promise,_  we’ll be there bright and early… but, dad, I just think —“

“Kurt,” Adam murmured, and Kurt stopped talking.  He sighed.

“Okay.  We’ll be home in about fifteen minutes.”

Adam put a hand on top of Kurt’s as he thumbed off his phone.  “I really don’t want to start a family vacation by pissing off your father.  We have all weekend.”  He slid down to kneel in front of Kurt beside the couch, smiling encouragement. “All right?”

“All right.”  Kurt touched Adam’s hair.  His own smile was wistful.  “I can’t be upset, not with you here.”

“Oh, no, honey,” Adam agreed.  “You won’t be upset with me.”  He raised his Voice.  “Noah. On your knees, right here beside me.”

Noah, who looked like he might have been dozing, scrambled off the bed and onto the floor next to Adam.  He clutched his hands together in his lap.  “Like this?” he only asked.

“That’s fine.  Watch, now, but don’t touch.”  Adam watched Kurt’s expression turn incredulous as he worked himself in closer between Kurt’s thighs.  “Scoot down a bit more, honey.  If I only have fifteen minutes to get you home, this is going to have to be quick.”

Listening to Kurt’s sounds while he used his lips and tongue and hands on him, while Noah watched, riveted, and made some noises of his own… it was inspiring, even in Adam’s exhausted, travel-worn state.  By the time Kurt came, Adam was half-hard again.  Noah was practically salivating, his hands knotted tight in an effort not to touch his own throbbing erection.  

“Okay, Noah,” Adam said, once he could speak again.  He turned to face him.   “We don’t have time to make this complicated.  You’ve been such a good boy.  I want you looking right here, right into my eyes.”  He stroked one hand down Noah’s leg, along the crease of his thigh, and pressed one quivering finger lightly against his hole.  Noah’s breath came apart into desperate gasps.

“Adam,” he begged.   _God_ , he loved hearing Noah do that.  

“Don’t look away,” Adam insisted.  “Right here.  Understand?”

Noah nodded, biting his lip, then cried out again, his eyes rolling back as Adam took his cock in one hand, beginning to jerk him fast.  He yanked them open again, forcing himself to hold Adam’s fierce gaze.  “Yes.  Yes, Adam.”

“My good, good boy.  You want to wear my collar this weekend?  You going to do exactly what I say?”

“ _Fuck…_  yes.”

“Good.”  He kissed him, hard.  “Now… come for me.   _Now.”_

“Oh —“ Noah’s eyes flew open, and he convulsed in Adam’s grip, thrusting against his stroking fingers.  “Fuck, fuck,  _fuck…”_

“That’s it,” Adam murmured, holding him close.  “Just like that.  Come for me — all over my hand.  Just like that.  Such a  _good_  boy.”

Kurt was already shifting into recovery after his own climax, gathering his clothing and supplying Adam with a box of tissues and extra kisses.  “T-shirt,” he said, helping Noah hold his arms over his head.  He unbuckled the cuffs from Noah’s wrists before sliding the shirt on.  “I… don’t think that would be the best way for you to meet my dad, either.”

“What, with Noah in cuffs?”  Adam laughed.  “No, probably not.”

They made what felt like a lot of noise on the way down the stairs, stumbling and laughing.  Adam felt positively drunk, holding one boy’s hand in each of his.  Angela was already gone, the reception desk quiet and tidy, but Jacob and Timothy were waiting beside the front door.  Judging by Timothy’s flushed face, they’d either interrupted an argument or a make-out session.  

“Hey, there,” Jacob said, smiling at Kurt and Noah.  Timothy and Noah exchanged awkward handshakes that turned into hugs with a little encouragement from Kurt and Jacob.  “You guys all set to go?”

“I think we’re all going to be asleep as soon as we lie down,” Adam said.  He handed the Navigator keys to Jacob.  “You okay driving?”

“Wait here.”  Jacob stepped out first onto the cold, empty sidewalk.  Adam shivered, wrapping his thin leather jacket closer around himself; he really wasn’t prepared to be outside on a midwest winter night.  But he waited with Kurt and Noah until Jacob gave the all-clear, then followed him back to the car.  The three of them piled into the back seat, draped over one another.  Kurt was awake enough to give Jacob directions; Adam knew he had the GPS coordinates for Kurt’s house, anyway.

“Mmmm,” Noah hummed happily, tracing Adam’s tattoos on the inside of his arm with a lazy finger.  “You’re going to have to see Alec’s tattoos.  He’s got some great ones.”

“Who’s Alec again?” Adam asked.

“One of Tess’s inner circle. James, Stephen, Alec, Philip and Lydia.”  He yawned and rested his head on Adam’s shoulder. 

“Rest now,” Kurt suggested.  “We’ll have eight hours in the car tomorrow to talk about Tessera.”

Noah was dozing again when they pulled into Kurt’s driveway, but he woke up enough to help them bring in their luggage through the garage.  Adam tried not to feel too nervous, walking into Kurt’s house in the middle of the night.  

The first thing he saw was an ugly green couch, shaped like an L, in the center of the ground floor room.  Sleeping in the corner of the couch was a small dark-haired girl, curled into a ball under a fleece blanket.  Seated beside her was a sturdy, balding man wearing a baseball cap.  He was watching them with Kurt’s exact blue eyes and a wary expression that Adam guessed matched his own.

“Timothy,” said Burt, shaking his hand, “I’m in charge of getting everybody to bed immediately.  Carole made up the fold-out couch for you and Jacob upstairs.”

“Oh.”  Timothy looked a little surprised, but Jacob was already reaching around him to shake Burt’s hand next.  “Uh — thanks, Burt.  This is… Jacob.”

“Really good to meet you.  Thanks for taking good care of the elder Puckerman here.”  His smile for Jacob was friendly and easy, but when it shifted back to Adam, his smile faded.  Adam straightened up as Noah and Kurt paused beside him.  “And you’re Adam.”

It would have been an easy place to make a joke, but Adam didn’t think the look on Burt’s face really warranted one.  He held out his own hand.  “I’m so glad to —“

“I wasn’t sure where to put you, to be honest,” Burt cut in.  Adam let his hand fall back to his side.  Kurt frowned, and Noah looked uneasy.  

“Wherever seems appropriate, sir,” Adam replied, trying to remain calm.  

Burt nodded.  “I think most people wouldn’t feel all that comfortable with their son’s boyfriend visiting from out of town.  I was all set to give you this couch here.  And then Sarah — that’s the youngest Puckerman, there, in a little heap on the couch — set me straight.”  He regarded Adam frankly.  “She said,  _he already proved he was safe when he took care of Kurt when he got sick.  And Finn trusts him._   As far as she’s concerned, you get the same rights in this house as any of Kurt’s other boyfriends get.  And I guess I’d better agree with her.  She’s got a good head on her shoulders, for an eleven-year-old.”  He gestured at the door to his right.  “So you three are in Kurt’s room, unless you want your own space, in which case you get Sarah’s bed.”

Adam felt a little like crying, but he decided even if that happened, he wasn’t going to worry about it.  He smiled as Kurt came up beside him, clutching his arm.  “That’s — thank you, Mr. Hummel. Really.”

“Hey, call me Burt, all right?”  He smiled back.  “But, you know, I think Puck’s about to fall asleep on his feet.  That kid has the worst sleep habits of anybody in this household, and that’s saying something.”

“It’s my goal to do what I can to change that, Burt,” Adam agreed.  He took Noah’s hand, towing him toward the bedroom.  “Come on, honey.  It’s time for bed.”


	2. Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The family arrives at Tessera on Friday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning in this chapter for flogging and m/m/m sex. Just some cozy arrival, introductions, etc. before the weekend gets underway. Enjoy. 
> 
> -amy and flinchflower

Friday mornings at Tessera were seldom slow, but almost all the action occurred behind the scenes.  That was how it felt to Tess this particular morning.  On the surface, she guessed she would have appeared serene, seated behind her broad desk, the day’s tasks sorted neatly before her.   

But none of these things was foremost in her mind when Stephen’s voice came over the intercom, “The extended family has arrived, Tess.”  And apparently she wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding what was going on under the surface from James, who was waiting for her beside the door.  She took a deep breath as he chuckled.

“Just relax, honey, it’ll be fine.  I don’t remember seeing you this nervous before.”

She let the breath out, hoping it sounded more determined than reluctant.  “I don’t think I’ve ever had active teenagers come to stay -  _with_  their parents.  It’s a first.  Certainly I’m bound to be jumpy.”

He reached out to take her hand, helping her rise from her seat.  “Everything’s under control.  You’ve planned for every contingency.  Just let your staff do its work.”

They walked down the stairs together, heading towards the main entrance, where Stephen would be waiting for them.

* * *

Stephen prided himself in being aware of everything happening at Tessera, day or night.  No matter what time the Hudson and Hummel families were slated to arrive, he was going to be there to greet them.  He’d put plenty of work into making sure this visit would come off seamlessly.  His first task at hand was to help each guest feel welcome; his second was to provide them all with a place to stay.  If he could accomplish those things without incident before retiring to bed himself, he would call the night a success. 

He waited by the door as the entire group, road-weary and curious, approached the main Tessera building.  He murmured a few words into his radio to alert Phillip’s staff as to their approach, then stood in the light of the porch to greet them.

Puck was the first to approach, carrying a sleeping preteen girl in his arms.  It didn’t look like it was any effort for him, but he was walking carefully, clearly not wanting to disturb her.  He caught Stephen’s eye and smiled gratefully.  

“Hey, Stephen,” he murmured under his breath.  “Where can I put her?  It’s my sister.  She passed out over an hour ago, and she’s had a hell of a week; she needs all the sleep she can get.”

“Here, Noah.”  He beckoned for Puck to follow.  “Come straight through into the public wing, it’ll be quieter to go through there - Tess is on her way down from the second floor, honey.  You can sit down on the bench just inside here.”

He eased himself down onto the bench, letting the girl rest against his shoulder, cradling her in his arms.  “My, uh… everybody’s behind me.  Can you get them settled?  I’m just gonna wait here for a minute.”

“Of course, honey; we’ll be right through.”

Stephen stepped back through the huge doors, and looked at the rather large cluster of people, smiling at the one familiar face among the group.  “Carl!  It’s good to see you.  Will you do the honors for me?”  

Carl looked back and forth between the family standing in the entrance and Stephen.  He was seldom at a loss for words, but it took him a few moments to muster them now.  “I’m trying to work out who already knows whom,” he said with a chuckle. With a little encouragement, he drew Finn forward beside him.  “Stephen, may I introduce my -- Finn.” 

Finn reached to shake Stephen’s hand, his face a little pink.  “Glad to meet you.”

Carl turned back to the group.  “And Burt Hummel, Kurt’s father, and Carole Hudson, Finn’s father.  This is Kurt, with whom I know you’ve spoken.”  He craned his neck a little to catch the eye of the tall young man standing in the back, unsubtly hiding beneath his fedora.  “And the tall fellow in the back, that’s Adam, of course.”

“Of course,” Adam echoed, smirking faintly.  Kurt smothered a laugh, and Adam rolled his eyes a little as he stepped forward, hand outstretched.  “I’m so glad to be here.”

Stephen took his hand in both of his.  “You’re very welcome.  All of you, certainly, but let me extend Tessera’s hospitality -- and privacy -- to you in particular.  You can be assured we will maintain professional discretion, even for a private visit.  We have plenty of celebrities and officials who depend on it.”

Adam’s smile flattened into a wry grin.  “I’m not much of a celebrity, but in this case, I’m glad to take advantage of that discretion.” 

“Excellent,” Stephen murmured, dropping Adam’s hand after a moment.  “And the two of you?”  Stephen looked directly at the shorter, chestnut-haired man standing at Adam’s shoulder, and a younger, slimmer person who appeared to be hiding behind both of them.

“That’s Timothy, Noah’s brother,” Adam said, without looking behind himself, “and Jacob, my head of security.”

“Only of security,” Jacob clarified.  He held up Timothy’s hand, as if to say  _here he is_.  Timothy was absolutely cringing in the face of multiple pairs of eyes on him.  Stephen moved on quickly.

“Ah - very good.  Phillip?”  Stephen looked over his shoulder, and a broad shouldered man, taller even than Stephen himself, appeared to materialize at Stephen’s side.  He was dressed very formally, in a black button-down shirt with a fancy logo on the pocket, with a black leather vest over top, and heavy black cargo pants.   “Phillip is the security supervisor here, and all of the security staff is dressed similarly, easy to identify.  That, my friends, is one of the most important things to know here.   Jacob, I’m certain Phillip will be happy to spend a few minutes with you, after we show you to your quarters, to discuss the finer details, and to introduce the security manager, who isn’t able to join us at the moment.”

“That’s cool,” Jacob said calmly.  “I’ll be on vacation while we’re here, but I’d love to talk shop.”

Phillip nodded, and when he spoke, his voice was a deep bass rumble.  “Please do.  I’ll be with you for the weekend, I’ll point out the room I’m staying in on the second floor when we pass it.  Adam, if you have concerns for me personally, I’m all ears whenever you’re ready.”

Stephen drew their attention again.  “Now, just so we’re all clear, I’m Tess’ majordomo - so in this case, what that means for all of you is that if you need  _anything_ , anything at all, I’m the one to ask.  And if you’re not certain of where I am, any of the staff will be able to find me.  This is a big building, but I try to make myself easy to locate.”  Stephen paused for a moment, and then grinned at them, easing his formal stance.  “And I promise you, unless you’re a homing pigeon, you’ll get turned around in here trying to get from place to place.   Security is stationed at every stairwell.  Your rooms are on the third floor in the private wing, the opposite end of the building from where we’re standing now.  Meals are served at regular hours; we’ll pass the family dining rooms on our way upstairs.  Ready to follow me?”

Stephen kept his pace measured, letting them peek into the demo hall and into the grand ballroom as they walked.  He pointed out the country club offices, and simply mentioned in passing that there were facilities on the basement level they might enjoy. In the case of the teenagers, they would not be allowed to go alone. 

“The second floor and up in this wing are secured for private members, and should remain private,” he emphasized, before ushering them through the double doors into the central wing.  They were just in time to see Tess coming down the hallway towards them.

* * *

Tess’ face brightened as she arrived into the corridor where Stephen had gathered the family, about to lead them off to the private wing.  Her first glance was to Puck, sitting quietly with a small girl in his arms, her head nestled comfortably against his shoulder.  Her greeting to the family was quiet.  It didn’t pass her notice that the one boy she didn’t know stayed in the background, having what looked to be a fairly serious conversation with Stephen.

Her grey eyes were warm as she went to Burt, finally, hugging him gently.  “Burt.  It’s good to see you. Now, all I need to know is whether anything has changed since we discussed room arrangements, whether it’s because you’re worried, or for any other reason.”  

“I think going with those room arrangements will be easier than being hip deep in necking teenagers,” he said with a wry look at his boys.  They were clearly antsy and overtired.  She gestured to him.

“In that case, come along with Stephen and me.”  She raised her voice enough to be heard over their conversation.  “Stephen?  Will you get that herd of boys in check?”

Stephen laughed, and led six of them ahead, leaving Tess standing with Carole, Burt, and Noah.

“Noah.”  Her voice was soft, as was her smile, as she leaned down to kiss his cheek.  “I’ll give you a place where you can get Sarah settled, all right?”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Puck said with polite relief, hitching his sister up a little higher on his shoulder.

She led them quietly along the service hall and up the stairs, keeping a careful eye on Noah and Sarah.  “You’ll stay in the second room in John’s suite.  His boys are off in Canada with a friend of theirs for a few weeks on a job; I hate to think of how cold they must be, not to mention how much whining we’ll have to put up with when they return.  Here we are, through this door.  Burt, you and Carole will be on the other side; that’s a little more privacy for you.”  She showed them the ring of keys hanging on a hook just inside the door.  “They work on this door only, and the connecting door to the living area is open.”

Puck looked at the bunk bed with wide eyes, and no wonder.  The bottom bunk was enormous, far bigger than a full size bed.  There was a set of steps along the wall, leading up to the top bunk.  “Never seen a bed this big before.”

“Sam’s _tall,_  Noah.  And those boys come home tired.  Can you take Sarah up to the top bunk?  I can call one of the security boys up, if you -- ah, there you are, honey,” Tess said fondly, watching Noah wink audaciously at her, and practically skip up the stairs with his smaller sister, laying her carefully on the big bed and covering her over.   She barely stirred through the whole process.

Puck glanced to the side, noting the sturdy railing, and kissed her forehead.  “Sleep good, squirt,” he said.  “You’re right here with, uh, Tatenui, and Carole.”  Then he peered over the edge, where Kurt and Adam had arrived, standing in the connecting doorway.  He grinned, calling out, “Heads up.”  With that, he launched himself over the edge, landing neatly on the floor next to Kurt.  Burt was apparently the only member of the family startled by this action; Carole gave him a tired smile, and Kurt sighed under his breath, reaching for Noah’s hand.  

“We’ve been in the car for -- a long time,” he explained to Tess.

“I see,” Tess said dryly.  “Let’s move along, shall we?   Boys, leave Burt and Carole to get some rest; say your good-nights, please.” 

“We’ll see you guys in the morning,” Burt said, giving them a little wave as they headed for the door.  “Thanks, Tess.”

Tess swept into the hallway, beckoning to the two young men, and exchanged a long look with Phillip, who was speaking with Adam just outside the door.  Adam appeared not to notice, neither the glance, nor the fact that the boys had shuffled into the hallway with them.  Adam was looking at Phillip, a little puzzled at the lack of reply, and after a moment, Tess scraped up a little mercy for him.

“Adam.  Come along now, please.”

He followed the prompt quickly enough, even though he was clearly exhausted, smiling as he fell into step beside her.  “This place is just as amazing as I’d heard it was.  I’m excited to see the rest.”  Then, as his sentence was rent with an enormous yawn, he added, “Perhaps tomorrow.”

“We don’t have far to go,” she comforted, opening the door directly across the hall.  “This is the blue room, my dears.   My rooms are just to your right, Timmy and Jacob are next door, and Carl and Finn next down from them.  The bathrooms are at the end of the hall, there, beside a small kitchenette and laundry.”   She let the boys filter in, recognizing their bags on the luggage racks, trying not to smile at the sight of Puck’s lone duffel bag squashed between the enormous luggage pieces that both Adam and Kurt had brought with them.  The three boys were beside the bed, Adam’s arm around Puck more of a restraint than an embrace.  She sighed.

“Boys,” she said, her voice low and commanding.  It got Kurt and Puck both focused intently upon her, and a moment later Adam’s slightly puzzled and startled glance followed.  “My door is unlocked, at all times.   You  _will_  promise me, you three, that if you are having any kind of issues, from a to z, from nasty arguments to wondering who should have packed the condoms, you will come to me immediately.”

“Well, Stephen said we should…” Kurt tried faintly.

“Kurt Hummel,” Tess cut him off, looking at him closely.  “I shall be extremely disappointed, otherwise.”

“Yes, ma’am.”  The mumbled words came from the two younger boys, and though Tess’ attention was on Kurt at the time, she thought perhaps Adam had said them too.

“Very well.  I hope that you’ll  _rest,”_  she said with a wink.  “Noah…”  She seized his other arm, but when his eyes widened, she simply kissed his cheek, bidding him good night.  She bent to cup Kurt’s face in her hand for a moment before doing the same to him.  Adam she simply looked at evenly, and nodded formally, watching to see how he reacted.

“I’ll make sure they do,” Adam said, gazing back at her with steady eyes.  Puck squirmed a little in his grip, until Adam did something with his arm and he subsided.

Tess left the door partly open as she left, and stood in the hallway listening as she opened and closed the door to her own office.

“Tess’ door,” she heard Puck say, the impish grin coming through loud and clear.  “She’ll go straight to bed, but there’s no way  _I_  am… so what’s next?”

“You mean after you get cuffed to that bed?” Adam replied gaily.  “I suspect we’ll think of something, won’t we, honey?”

* * *

Puck thought that Kurt was the only person he knew who could give him that chiding look without it feeling bad.  Especially when he coupled it with a kiss.  

“I think you need sleep,” Kurt said firmly.  “Tess said so, and she’s right.  We hardly slept enough last night.  You’re going to be a wreck if you don’t get some rest.”

“I’ve been fucking  _resting_  all day in the car,” he groaned.  He pulled away from Kurt, restlessly pacing the suite, examining the furniture, the decorations, the enormous bed.  “We’re at  _Tessera._   I’m not going to sleep until somebody  _does_  something.”

“A little demanding, hmm?”  Adam was unzipping his suitcase, drawing out a smaller bag.  From that, he took out the leather cuffs they’d used in LA, along with the functional collar Adam had had for him there. “How about we all get ready for bed and then check out the attachment points along the headboard?”

Kurt followed Puck into the bathroom, handing him his toothbrush and driving him in and out of the shower within minutes.  He drew the line at letting Kurt dry him off; he couldn’t deal with shit like that when he was this worked up.  Luckily, Adam didn’t seem to care.  He was just smiling at both of them the whole time they were cleaning up.

“Whatever your expectations are regarding being at this club, honey, I think you need to rethink the quality of your own very kinky life.  Most people need to come to a place like Tessera to find people to play with.  You could do this stuff at home whenever you want.”

Kurt shook his head, blushing.  “You really think we’re that creative?”

Adam’s eyes gleamed.  “I don’t think I need to answer that question.”  He patted the mattress.  “Come on, Noah.  Right here.”  He snuggled Puck from one side while Kurt buckled the cuffs on him, then slipped the collar around his neck.  “I saw the photo Kurt sent me of your collar.  It’s beautiful.”

Puck loved the collar like he loved his sister.  Like he loved his “not-yet-borned” daughter.  It made him wriggle and squirm to think about it, and he smiled helplessly at Adam.  “Yeah.  I like this one too, though.  Because it’s yours.”

“Yeah.”  Adam kissed him over and over on his bare neck, gripping the ring in his teeth and growling playfully until Puck laughed aloud.  “You ready to be mine for the weekend again?”

“Definitely,” he agreed.

It was odd, the quality of submission he felt for Adam, so different from the way Finn and Kurt did it.  He craved Finn’s hands on him, Kurt’s gentle words — but every time they’d encountered one another, Adam had taken him over and transformed him into something entirely different.  It literally took his breath away.  When Adam pressed him down into the bed with one hand in the center of his back, there wasn’t anything in him that wanted to resist.  He just felt so fucking grateful.  

“Adam.”

“That’s it,” Adam purred, making Puck squirm again.  “Beautiful.  Kurt, okay if I direct a little?  I’m feeling selfish.”

“Selfish?”  Kurt sounded nothing but intrigued.  He put his arms around Adam, standing beside the bed.

“Well, I’ve had a few particular scenes in my head for the last month, and I’d love to spend the weekend making them a reality.  You give me latitude, I’ll make sure you get the same later.”

Adam and Kurt spent the next minute kissing, not even groping each other, simply their mouths moving lazily together.  It was just about the hottest fucking thing Puck had ever seen.  He rustled the chains connecting his cuffs to the bed.  “Torture,” he declared.

“Oh, no,” Adam assured him.  “You’re going to like this.  Kurt… on your back, now, underneath Noah.  Slide down so he can be on his elbows over you.”  As soon as Kurt was in position, Adam scooped up Kurt’s half-hard junk and fed it to him with a murmured, “Take it.”  Puck didn’t hesitate, swallowing as much of Kurt as he could manage, loving Kurt’s appreciative gasps.  But Adam wasn’t done.  He shifted Puck’s knees wider, wider still until his own cock was dangling close enough to Kurt’s mouth for him to employ his lips and tongue. 

“Let’s tuck this under your neck,” Adam said to Kurt, wedging a pillow underneath.  He sounded smug.  “How’s that, honey?  Mmm.  Can’t really say much, can you?  Reminds me of that gag we tried last time.”

Puck felt Kurt’s moan as much as he heard it.  The rush of arousal that drove through him as Adam introduced  _that_  image was intense and immediate, and he moaned in return around Kurt’s cock.  Adam chuckled, putting pressure on Puck’s lower back, forcing him deeper into Kurt’s mouth.  

“Yeah, that was hot.  You gonna let me tie you up again, Kurt?  I can’t wait for Noah to see you like that, those ropes holding you tight.”

As soon as Puck realized Adam was Topping Kurt by using  _him_  as the gag, he was all done.  Adam pulled him out at the last minute, stroking him off on Kurt’s chest and neck.  Then he hovered over Puck, watching avidly as Puck sucked Kurt harder, trying his best to stay elevated on trembling legs following his orgasm.

“That’s good.  He likes that.  Here, let me…”  Adam moved in from above, using his hands to spread Kurt’s thighs open, and — fuck, Adam’s tongue inside Kurt, at close quarters, was going to make him all useless again.  Kurt cried out in surprise, thrusting back reflexively into the pressure of Adam’s tongue.  Adam didn’t let Kurt pull away from either of their mouths until he was right on the edge.  Then he was tugging Kurt out from under Puck, giving him a gentle shove to make room to put Kurt on his knees.  

He reached across to the table where his tools were laid out, and chose a flogger Puck hadn’t seen before.  It appeared to have metal tips on each of the tails.  Puck wished his hands were free so he could feel them between his fingers.

“This one’s got some bite,” Adam said, his eyes flashing.  “Noah, you’ll appreciate it just fine, even after coming, but I think Kurt needs a little pushing before he’ll give in.”  He swung the handle, letting the tails fall onto Puck’s back with a stinging slap.  Puck sighed his appreciation. 

Kurt’s reaction, when Adam shifted the flogger to strike his back, was a little more verbal.  

“Bite,” he gasped.  “You weren’t kidding.”  

“Maybe I do need to break out that gag after all.”  Adam was smiling, though.  He alternated back and forth between Kurt and Puck, swinging the flogger, giving them each just as much impact as they needed.  When Kurt’s responses shifted from desire to complaint, Adam paused again to reposition Puck’s mouth underneath Kurt.  That changed his tune.  Now each  _slap_  of leather and metal elicited another thrust, until Adam couldn’t stave off Kurt’s climax with pain any longer, and he came with a desperate shout.

“Yeah,” Adam said.  He sounded incredibly satisfied, considering he was the only one still sporting an erection.  

Kurt settled on top of Puck, his breathing slowing, while Adam threw a couple pillows against the headboard and relaxed there, stroking himself idly.

“God,” Kurt whimpered.  “That was… I mean, it really  _hurt,_  and it felt so… so  _good_  at the same time.”

“The closer you get to coming, the more pain feels like pleasure.” Adam smiled.  “I think that gave you a taste of what Noah feels all the time.” 

Kurt propped himself up on his elbows, gazing down at Puck with curious awe.  “Is that true, sweetheart?”

“Fuck if I know,” he shrugged.  “Maybe?  It all feels awesome to me.”

“It’s an incredible thought.”  Kurt clambered across the bed to settle between Adam’s thighs, laughing at Adam’s delighted expression.  “Can you see all right from there?”

“Yeah,” Adam and Puck said simultaneously, making Kurt laugh harder.  Adam put a hand on Kurt’s head, letting his eyes fall closed as Kurt took him into his mouth.  “Knowing you’re both watching makes it so much better.”

Puck wasn’t going to disagree.  He had an excellent view of Adam’s enjoyment from where he lay beside them.  It was even better when Adam reached out an arm and pulled him in close, kissing Puck’s swollen lips and moaning into his mouth as Kurt drove into him with his tongue.

“You learn… quickly, honey,” he said to Kurt, breathless.  “There’s your answer as to how creative you are.  You take everything good and make it your own.”

Adam took Puck’s hand into his, wrapping Puck’s fingers around his cock.  Puck didn’t attempt to take control of the situation.  He just let Adam use him, exactly the way he wanted it — and god, it felt so  _good_ to be used that way. 

By the time Kurt crawled back into Adam’s arms, kissing him breathless, Puck was already half-asleep.  He wasn’t sure why he slept so much better in Adam’s bed, but he wasn’t going to question it.  He barely registered their hands on him, drawing up the covers, and descended into warm, grateful sleep.


	3. Saturday, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burt has a minor freak-out and asks Tess for advice. Sarah and Adam go sneaking around Tessera. Carl demonstrates his skill with Finn. Burt talks about his concerns with Carole. Tess shows Burt her car collection. Kurt has an idea. Carl oversteps, but luckily he's got family there to catch him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's so much fun to write Sarah again, and Sarah and Tess together are just magical. 
> 
> Warnings in this chapter for whipping, anal play and lots of discussion of and demonstration of discipline. Oh, and talking about tattooing, if that's a trigger for you. Enjoy! 
> 
> -amy and flinchflower

The shared community bathroom at Tessera wasn't so different from the way things already were at his house, Burt thought, drawing his robe closer around him. With the sheer number of youngsters wandering around at the Hummel residence these days, and all their associated chaos, it might actually be refreshing to have a sink and counter space to himself, uninterrupted.

When he pushed open the door, he felt the warm puff of steam before he heard the water running in the shower, but he could still see himself in the mirror to shave, so he didn't think much of it. Until the shower turned off, and he realized whoever it was might not know anyone else was in there. He wasn't really up for a naked encounter with Adam or Carl.

"Uh - good morning," he called.

"Dad?" The curtain was pulled aside far enough for him to see the face of his son, looking far too rested for the amount of sleep they'd all gotten last night. He relaxed, smiling at Kurt.

"Hey, kiddo. This place is something else, huh?"

"It's amazing," Kurt agreed fervently. He disappeared back behind the curtain again. "Did you notice the leaded glass windows along the ceiling in here? And I bet that's the original crown molding."

Kurt continued chattering as he pulled the curtain aside, stepping out onto the tile floor, his towel securely fastened around his waist. Burt wasn't watching while he brushed his teeth, but when he caught a glimpse of Kurt's shoulders and lower back, he nearly choked on his mouthful of toothpaste.

Kurt's back was liberally covered with what looked like long, straight welts, the kind that might happen if you accidentally slammed your hand in a door. Burt doubted Kurt had accidentally slammed his back in any kind of a door, especially not fifty or sixty times, but the places his mind went as he thought  _what the hell could have made those marks?_  were not pleasant. He had enough presence of mind to swallow his exclamation and beat a hasty retreat from the bathroom before he said something he'd later regret.

Carole was awake when he brought his toothbrush back to the room. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, combing her hair back from her face. She gave him a sleepy smile as he leaned in for a kiss.

"Wow. I think I might need to invest in a new mattress. Sleeping on this one makes me realize how much sleep I'm losing, tossing and turning at night. I'm pretty sure my parents bought the one I own for my fourth brother, twenty years ago. I took it when I moved out with Finn."

He couldn't help but smile. "I think you could justify putting down some money on a new mattress, honey."

Whatever he might be thinking about  _we could buy one together,_ that was going to have to wait. This weekend was going to be complicated enough without suggesting... any other major changes in their lives. He settled on the bed next to her, letting some of his anxiety come out in his sigh. Carole, of course, noticed immediately, putting a hand on his arm, and he touched it with his fingertips.

"Being here," she said, and stopped. He waited for her to go on, but when she didn't, he looked up at her face, which was pensive. Slowly, he nodded.

"It's... a little much." He grimaced. "I'm not proud of that reaction, I've got to say, but... Jesus, Carole."

"It's not much different than what you've been seeing at home for the past two months," she said, but he shook his head vehemently.

"Yes. It's different. There were...  _things,_ on Kurt's back, and I have no idea what put them there, but they weren't hickeys or carpet burns, and -"

Burt realized, a little late, that his voice had been creeping up in volume as he spoke, until he was nearly shouting. Carole's hand closed more tightly on his arm, and he cut himself off, swallowing.

"I'm sorry," he added, at a more normal level.

"No. It's a lot to take in, as you said. Don't beat yours - um, don't worry too much about that. You trust Kurt; it's obvious to anyone with eyes. You've given him every opportunity to be his own person. More than any other parent I know, you trust your son. You can do that here." She paused, and kissed his cheek. "Even if you don't understand it."

"I  _don't."_  It was almost a whine, the way it came out, but Burt knew Carole wouldn't judge him. He could say anything to her and she would take it at face value. He cradled his forehead in one hand. "What Kurt and Puck and Finn are doing, I know I told them that it's okay. But this? Carole, this was  _damage._  To his body. He's always been a victim and to think that he's letting himself… get  _hurt?_ How can I feel okay about that?"

She tilted her head. "How did he look?"

"Who?"

"Kurt. Just now, in the bathroom. How did he look? Was he calm, or anxious?"

"Calm. He looked... he was fine." He shot her a glance, feeling his lips twist. "Okay, I get it. Whatever it is, it doesn't seem to be hurting his heart. But how am I supposed to know it's not hurting him in ways I can't see? I can't protect him if I don't know what he's up against."

She rose to her feet. "Well, you're in luck. You happen to be in the same building with a half-dozen people who would answer those questions, in detail, with authority. And I would start with Tess."

Burt considered this while he dressed. By the time he entered the hallway again, bracing himself for incidental interactions with his son or any of his multitude of boyfriends, he felt almost ready for that conversation.  _Although I have no idea how to begin it._

He tensed as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, but as he reluctantly turned, he found himself meeting the majordomo's eyes, and he heaved a sigh of relief.

"I wouldn't think the teenagers would be out - up and moving just yet," Stephen corrected himself.

"Kurt's up, at least," Burt said, rubbing a hand over his head. "You wouldn't, um, know where Tess is, would you?"

"Sure, she just headed down to the kitchen. If she's up this early, she likes to go down to sit with James while he supervises the chefs making breakfast. Come on with me, then?"

"Sure," Burt said gratefully. They trooped down the stairs, and Burt glanced at Stephen. "No wonder you guys are all in such good shape, all these stairs?"

Stephen laughed. "It does help. Here we are. I'd suggest that you check with James, before sneaking in here, but he's certainly used to the family doing it. And it was quite a challenge to keep young Puck out of here."

"He - what?" Burt felt like the conversation was already two steps ahead of him, but Stephen just gave him a friendly wave and headed off down the hall. Burt glanced around the kitchen, trying not to imagine Puck landing here alone on his long drive home from Santa Fe. He shook his head.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Tess said, appearing in the doorway. She glanced down the hallway, exasperation creasing her forehead. "That Stephen. Come sit with me, Burt. Coffee?"

"Thank you." He accepted the cup from her, digging into the sugar bowl and coming up with three cubes. Real sugar, not the fake stuff. He was certain what was in the cream pitcher wasn't any kind of low-fat anything, either. Well, what Kurt didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"He's forever forgetting, when we have out of town family here, that they're not used to our routines, or to getting about this old beast of a building. Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, thanks. I think Carole wants to marry the mattress in that room."

Tess laughed with him. "At my age, you can't afford to compromise about things like comfortable chairs and good mattresses. My father won't stand for it either."

"I'd like to meet him," Burt said frankly, and Tess smiled.

"You will, if I have anything to say about it. He's mentoring a young veteran who served in Somalia. Detox from drugs and alcohol isn't ever easy, and he isn't able to get away right now. But he'd love to meet you, Burt."

"My own dad died when I was twenty-three. Metastatic cancer."

Tess' face went a little remote, but softened. "Beau is my adoptive father. I'm sorry to hear about your loss. That's too young, and too terrible a thing to see."

"Yeah, it kind of dragged on for years. I wasn't so aware of what he was going through then, but I realized later, when Elizabeth - Kurt's mother - was dealing with the leukemia, how quickly it all went with her."

Tess sighed a little. "I've seen a lot of that. I'm so sorry, Burt. And Kurt… oh, my."

He stirred his coffee, resolving not to lose himself in those memories today. "He's always been strong, like his mother. Even during the worst parts, he stuck it out, came to the hospital to be with her. He was  _my_  rock, after she died." He gave her a half-smile. "I don't know if he even realizes that."

That elicited an equivalent smile from the older woman. "He won't realize that, at this age, Burt. His behavior is what's telling, and important, right now. Kurt is a very sensitive and thoughtful young man."

"I wasn't like Kurt. He's a good kid, don't get me wrong, but I can't always relate to what he's going through. I was an average student, played sports, worked pretty hard. I never got in trouble - not that Kurt does, either. But... Puck."

Tess smirked. "It takes all kinds."

"Yeah. This kid..." He shuffled his feet, feeling the anxiety mounting.

"Burt. Just talk to me, please? I said once that you can ask me anything, and truly, I promise I meant that."

It was a perfect opening for him to bring up what he'd seen on Kurt's back in the bathroom, but he wasn't ready to mention that. "I just don't think I've got the tools to deal with some... okay, most of the things Puck and Sarah have seen."

Tess was silent for a long moment, watching him with her steady grey eyes. "You're not going to. Ever. If you're asking my opinion, you'll do much better to just take things as they come with those babies, and I have no doubt in my mind that you'll be able to do that with their best interests in mind. If anything, I'm fairly certain you'll have to exercise some creativity, and likely some tolerance in that endeavor."

He laughed. "Tolerance I'm attempting. I can't say I'm all that creative. In my household these days, it's all I can do to manage one day at a time."

She winked at him. "That's the best way. Far fewer surprises and shocks that way. And don't forget, opinions are free for the asking - and you're a good man, Burt. You'll be able to weigh all the options, and come out with those babies safe and healthy in the end. And... you're avoiding something, aren't you."

Burt closed his mouth on whatever words he was going to say next, contemplating his coffee in both hands. Because she was right, of course. He wasn't there to talk about Puck.

"I... I've known that Puck and Finn and Kurt were doing... things, for some time. And I made it clear to Puck, when he came home from Santa Fe, that I wanted to hear the details. Even the ones they thought would bother me. And I still want that. But..." He sighed, looking at her helplessly. "They're  _bothering me._  I don't know what to do about that."

Tess closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, she fixed him, her eyes solemn. "It's much easier to be thrown in the deep end, in my opinion. But I realize how shocking it can be. Very well. I'm going to take this out of the context of the boys for the moment, because I'm aware of what they're up to as well - and I'm going to give you some information that I hope you consider to be reassuring. I explained to all of you last night, not that I expect you to recall, as tired as all of you were. The rule that anyone I come into contact  _must and will_  follow, if they wish to continue to speak with me, and ask my advice, or even be considered part of my family." Her eyes closed briefly against some remembered pain, while Burt watched with mild concern, but it passed quickly enough, and she went on. "That rule is called Safe, Sane, and Consensual."

He frowned, nodding. "I think I've heard that one. Maybe Carl's said it?"

"I wouldn't be surprised." She took a sip of her coffee. "Safe means that no one is harmed permanently, emotionally, or physically. Sane is perhaps harder to explain. Sane means that you are clean, sober, and have an understanding of the dynamics of the activity you are about to participate in, and understand the partner you are participating with, and their limits. And finally, consensual. Every single person involved  _must, must, must_  consent to the activities at hand." She stabbed her finger at the table. "Understood so far?"

"Yep," Burt agreed, still feeling off-balance. Tess smiled encouragingly, as though she understood that this conversation was bound to cost him something.

"Good. Let me take that one step further. Consensual also means that each and every person participating is required to have an "easy out." Here, that comes in the form of words.  _All_  of your boys," she told him firmly, " _all_  of them — not just the three teenagers, but Carl, and Adam as well — they've spoken with me on this front. They are all good boys. They all responded quickly, and immediately, and took the conversation very seriously. Now, there was a little handholding after with one or two of them, as they realized how serious the situation could be, but I believe very firmly that being shaken like that, into a responsibility to one's own safety, is very important. As the head of household, if you ever hear the word  _red_ , yelled anywhere, or even said near you, out of context, you get yourself ready to go check on them. That word stops anything dead, Burt Hummel. Yellow makes someone stop and think. Green is a go. It's simple.

"And, Burt." Tess paused again, looking at him steadily. "I'll repeat this again. I have spoken with Kurt about this. I've tested him — no, Burt; don't go there. It's easy enough to do in a conversation," she told him calmly. "I simply give each person the words, and then... then we talk." There was steel in her voice and in her expression. "I promise you Kurt was upset by the end of that conversation. But he used the word - and it ended. Just like anything that he does here —  _or at home_ , with  _anyone_. Those are universal terms, my friend."

She paused again, longer this time, watching Burt take this in. She put a gentle hand on his.

"And I realize that this a lot to wrap your mind around. Try to apply it to your own life, internally. See where you'd apply any of those colors. That's what all five of those boys are doing,  _all the time."_  Tess spoke with some satisfaction. "I trust them. And, I trust them to come to someone if they are unsure, or upset — or, God forbid, worried and frightened."

"I... trust them, too," Burt said slowly. He considered the words as he spoke them. "Carole said something a lot like that. If I trust them, I trust them. It's not a sometimes thing, or just with the stuff I agree with, or understand. I really do believe that, and... I'm trying to hang on to it."

" _Good_ ," Tess said emphatically. "So. Now we get to you understanding. I'm happy to walk you through understanding anything, at any time." She smiled dryly as she gestured toward a young man who'd flounced into the kitchen. "And here we have a prime example in our midst. Watch."

The boy had a sulky pout on his face, and Burt observed as he went straight to James, who was busy supervising the production of breakfast.

"I failed it," the boy said loudly and primly.

"Did you now," James replied mildly. "And what did I tell you would happen if you failed that exam?"

"Whatever," the boy said, rolling his eyes in a way that Burt recognized.

"That's right," James replied, and to Burt's shock and astonishment, James swept the boy up under his arm, slinging him over a hip without ever leaving his clean workstation. Burt watched, flinching away from the sight in horrified fascination as James spanked the dickens out of the kid, who kicked and wailed and apologized profusely.

There was no mention of red or yellow or any other color, even when James paused once the boy began to cry in earnest and asked if he needed anything. The boy only cried harder at that, not giving him a reply. Burt half-expected James to respond harshly, demanding an answer. Instead, James took the boy's hands in his own.

"I expect you to focus on your classes, and on your internship here, as our agreement states, Benjamin. You may not work here in the kitchen, at a workstation and cooking, until you've taken a makeup test, or turned in extra work. You may sit at the counter near my desk, to complete that extra work. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir. James. Sir."

"Good boy," James said, very gently. "Maybe you and I can take a walk on the terrace, where it's quieter, and you can tell me why you didn't focus on studying for such a critical exam, after the time we spent together preparing for it."

"Yes please, sir," Benjamin replied. "I... can I have a minute?"

"Yes, you may. Thank you for being so polite, and thoughtful. Go on, honey. I'll be right here when you're ready."

Tess leveled a look at Burt as the boy disappeared through the kitchen door. "Benjamin grew up in foster care. He is on scholarship to the local college, which a has a small, unremarkable culinary program. James often selects students from the children in the program on as interns, regardless of their orientation, be it sexual or disciplinary. If they are inclined to respond to corporal punishment like Benjamin is, it goes a step further, and James takes on a more parental role, if you will. Now if you ask me,  _all_  three of your boys would benefit from a firmer hand." She raised a demure hand at his outraged reaction. "And you  _did_ ask me. Some more so than others. And if their relationships are providing that greater structure, safely, I see this as nothing but a good thing, Burt. Certainly I can see that each of the boys who have received... strict discipline, shall we say, to this point, that they've all responded beautifully to it."

Burt stared at the closed door through which Benjamin had gone, trying to martial his thoughts. It wasn't as though corporal punishment was a foreign idea to him; more than a few of the parents he knew had done that, to some degree or another, with their young children.  _But that's not how I raised Kurt,_  he wanted to object - but he bit his tongue.

"I think I'm going to have to think about all of this," he said at last.

"Of course you are," Tess agreed. "It's new information, yes? I wouldn't expect anything less. And if you wish to speak to Benjamin... just ask James first, hmm? Technically Benjamin is an employee, and James his supervisor."

He regarded her, trying not to grimace. "Technically?"

"I'll say that every person who so much as lifts a finger in this kitchen on a regular basis is an employee, and as such we are subject to laws and regulations and conventions, local, state and federal - and that's a pretty tangle here in the backwoods, I assure you. Benjamin was the one to approach James, to ask if he might additionally have a private mentoring relationship. This is not unusual across management here. I mentor, oh, half a dozen young people myself, without discipline ever entering into the picture. The typical mentoring paradigm wasn't working for young Master Benjamin. James weighed the options; he spoke with Father, and myself, on separate occasions regarding his ideas. And Benjamin was offered a separate contract - one that is far, far more restrictive than the typical at-will contract an employee receives. James' actions are constrained by that agreement, as are Benjamin's. As it happens, it's working for them. If it were not working — if James does something as little as swat someone, or stand them in the corner like a child, and they  _use their word_ , or otherwise demonstrate extreme distress? That ends the agreement there. A second chance is... extremely rare." She nodded crisply. "Now, I may be an owner here, but to father and me, that does not trump an employee's relationship with their manager. It is first Benjamin's choice, and then it is James' choice, and I will always and ever supervise and counsel those choices."

That made Burt breathe a little more easily, and he nodded understanding. It was good timing, too, because Adam, Kurt and Puck rounded the corner at that point, laughing together. Burt put on a brave face. He thought he might be able to handle that now — if just barely.

"You can't say that in front of my dad," Kurt was hissing, sounding scandalized, but he was smiling, too. He turned his flushed face to the two already seated at the table. "Good morning, Tess, dad."

"Good morning, honey. You look like you managed some sleep at least," she smiled. "I'm so glad to have you all here, finally." She reached out for Kurt, drawing him close for a little hug, observing as he flushed again, this time with pleasure. "Good morning, Noah," she said, dropping a kiss on his cheek, before she turned to smile warmly at Adam and lay a hand on the tall man's shoulder in silent greeting.

Puck grinned at Adam and Tess in turn. "It's great being back here, Lady Tess. Something about those rooms. I slept like a f- like a rock."

James appeared briefly to point out the food arrayed in heating trays along the wall, rattling through the contents quickly before returning to the kitchen. First, however, he frowned at Kurt, putting a plate firmly into the boy's hands, and giving a pointed look to Adam.

"Too skinny. You watch that now," he said, directly to Adam, looking at the singer over the top of Kurt's head.

Kurt clearly was at a loss for words, looking between James and Burt, but Adam laughed easily, leaning back in his chair. "You tell him, honey. His cheerleading coach has been trying to get him to  _lose_  weight." He laughed again at James' snort, reaching out to touch Kurt's arm. "See? I'm not the only one who thinks she's insane. Are you listening?"

"Oh my god," Kurt muttered, hiding his eyes. "Can we please just eat breakfast?"

"So what are you guys gonna do - um." Burt, trying to redirect the conversation, paused. Too late, he realized that this question might bring up some uncomfortable notions about precisely what his son already  _was_  doing at Tessera with Adam and Puck. The marks on his back had made it all too clear that Kurt was on the bottom of the heap. That wasn't exactly a surprise to Burt, considering his son had been the victim his whole life, but it didn't help Burt's protective instincts, either.

"How about I give you a little tour," Tess suggested. "The club is open on the weekend, you realize, so I'd like to point out what's public, and what's private, and go over the handful of rules we have. This is an active country club, and there is a long list of activities all of you might choose from, individually, or in groups. Would you like to hear the list, Burt? And I should say, with how big this place is, if you're looking for someone, please, please grab security and ask. You're all registered as my guests, so they'll know who you are on sight."

Burt did a little double take at that, raising an eyebrow. "Really."

"Really. Each shift reviews the security footage from the previous shift, and their hours overlap enough that they can brief one another. They'll know, Burt. And they keep an eye out. Too, there's quite a few of you, and they're aware that the family and I can't keep tabs on all of you at one time."

Puck glanced around, suddenly alert. "Where's Sarah, anyway?"

"Still sleeping, I'd imagine." Living with a preteen girl had reminded Burt just  _how much_  kids her age slept, when given the opportunity. "I'm not inclined to wake her up."

But Burt's assumption was proven wrong when, not five minutes later, Sarah arrived with a half-full glass of orange juice, wearing a cheerful expression.

"Hey," she said, dropping herself down into the empty chair beside Kurt.

"You missed the breakfast order," Puck told her, but she shook her head, looking smug.

"I ate an hour ago." She reached for a clementine, peeling the rind away with her tiny fingers.

Kurt was smiling at her. "You little scavenger. You didn't have to eat the snacks we brought. I'm sure the kitchen would be happy to make something for you."

"Dude, I  _ate._ James made me, like, eight thousand pancakes." She shrugged, slouching in her chair. "And they're better than yours, Noah."

"Hey!" Puck looked wounded.

"Just being honest." She grinned at Adam, her rows of earrings winking from behind her curtain of ringlets. "My brother's the best chef ever, so -"

"So that means something." Adam was nodding, smiling back at Sarah.

Burt could see that Sarah was responding to Adam's camaraderie. The long series of text and phone interactions he'd had with Adam himself during Kurt's trip to L.A. had been enough to help feel secure about the ways in which Adam was finding his way into his odd little family, so when Adam tugged Sarah aside after breakfast, whispering to her, he didn't feel worried.

He did, however, take the opportunity to check in with Kurt, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I haven't seen Finn or Carl yet this morning, and Carole got pulled into a conversation about alpaca wool with the lady at the front desk, so I don't think I'll be seeing her for a little while. You guys want to come check out the gym with me? I hear there's a yoga class happening in about a half hour."

Kurt brightened at that. "I could get changed and meet you in the hallway in ten minutes." He turned to Puck. "They have free weights?"

The look Puck shot Kurt was definitely smoldering. "You just want to watch me bench-press your body weight."

Burt gave a delicate cough. "Let's keep it PG around your old man, all right, guys?" He gave Tess a wave and a nod. "Thanks for the breakfast — and the conversation."

"You are quite welcome to both, Burt," she said serenely.

* * *

Sarah still wasn't exactly sure what to make of Carl. She didn't much like the way Finn got around him, losing his nerve and falling to pieces at one look, even if Kurt and Noah approved of him. He was a little formal and stiff for her taste, much more like a regular grownup than Carole was, without any of the additional awesomeness of Tatenui.

But  _Adam_ was a completely different story. From that first phone conversation they'd had before the guys had gone to California, she'd been sold. Yeah, it was pretty cool what he did for a living, and she still had to stifle a squeak whenever she saw him on television or his picture on newsstand magazines, but that wasn't what she liked best about him. And now that he and Finn seemed to be getting along better, it was easy for her to accept him as part of the family.

So when he sidled up beside her after breakfast, whispering, "Wanna come check out this place with me while Noah and Kurt are doing their cardio?" she dropped her napkin right on top of her orange peel and followed him, no questions asked.

It was like the best kind of sneakiness, prowling the back corridors with Adam. Sarah was pretty sure nobody was going to tell them they couldn't do that - and even if they did, being with an adult gave her a sense of invulnerability.  _Adam's my invisibility cloak,_  she thought, and grinned to herself.

"What's going on?" she asked, spotting Adam listening at a door. She couldn't help it, she giggled. His acute ears caught the sound, though she'd muffled it with her hand.

"You," he hissed, with a dramatic eye roll. "Shhhhhh."

She crept closer on careful feet, sneakers silent on the old hardwood floors while one hand rubbed the bracelet he'd given her at the holidays. "What are you listening to?"

"They're rehearsing Shakespeare in there," Adam whispered back, and listened for a few more moments before nodding. " _Taming of the Shrew."_  He gave a little sigh. "I used to do musical theatre, but I never had much opportunity to do classical work. Sometimes I miss the theater. It's really, really different than performing as a singer."

Sarah looked at him carefully, weighing what he said. "So why don't you ever do it? You could."

"Not really enough time —" Adam's sentence ended in a yelp at the hand on his shoulder. Sarah traced the hand up to its owner, which turned out to be Tess.

"And why might we be skulking in back corridors, hmm?"

Sarah glanced at Adam, but his eyes were still frozen wide. She was pretty sure his first stammering breath wasn't going to turn out well, not if he was going to try to lie.

"Adam says he misses being on stage in the theatre," Sarah announced, bumping into him with her shoulder as he started to frown.

"You're welcome to watch the rehearsal," Tess told them after a moment of watching the two together. Adam looked guilty as sin, which was pretty amusing considering what Sarah knew about Adam from her brothers, but he brightened at the offer.

"I don't want to interrupt," Adam murmured. "I know how distracting that can be." His eyes drifted towards the theatre.

"You won't be," Tess said firmly, opening the door. "It's a community group; they aren't paying for the rehearsal space, and part of that agreement is that staff here can come in and watch on their breaks, or even their days off. There is a handful of staff who participate, and enjoy it."

"Tess!" the director called brightly, pausing as he noticed the three of them. "Are we to have you in audience?"

The motion on the stage hushed, then shuffled a little. Tess was clearly suppressing a smirk.

"No, I'm afraid I have a meeting in a half hour. But these two young ones are guests of mine. They might enjoy it, if you don't mind?"

"Of course! Hello there." The portly man smiled though his beard. "My cast would only benefit from a little reflective audience. You're welcome to watch from the auditorium, and if you have questions or comments, just speak up." He took Tess' hand briefly. "Good to see you, ma'am. Good luck with the meeting."

Sarah and Adam chose two seats in the tenth row, giving them an excellent view of the stage while providing a buffer from the rehearsal to talk to one another. Adam sat down in the seat next to Sarah, watching her prop her feet up on the back of the seat in front of her. After a moment, he did the same with his own feet, making her giggle again.

"I don't really get what they're saying," she admitted after listening to them work through the scene for a few minutes.

"Understanding Shakespeare's kind of like listening to another language," Adam said. "It helps a lot to know the story. This is from act two, scene one, where Petruchio's informing Katherine about her father's agreement for the two of them to be married."

Sarah tried to listen more closely to the language that the actors used as they went over the scene. The actor playing Petruchio reminded her more than a little bit of Finn, which didn't help her concentration:

_"Thou must be married to no man but me,_  
For I am he born to tame you, Kate  
And bring you from a wild Kate."

She couldn't help but blink at that. "Um, that sounds kind of... controlling?"

Adam grinned, leaning in closer. "Yeah, and I don't think she likes it very much. But she'll change her mind by the end of the play. Sometimes it takes people a while to come to terms with the idea of somebody else being in charge of them."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "I never thought Noah was going to figure that one out. Seriously, he was a goddamn mess. He'd probably be in juvie by this time if it weren't for Finn."

"No doubt," Adam murmured. He tapped his fingers on the arm of the auditorium seat. "Your brother's in good hands now, though."

"No doubt," she echoed, touching Adam's arm. He shot her a grateful smile, and she felt warm inside. Whatever exactly was going to happen in the future between Noah and Adam was irrelevant; as far as Sarah was concerned, Adam was already an adopted brother.

He turned his attention back to the stage, where Petruchio was apparently presenting his case to Katherine's dad:

_Father, 'tis thus: yourself and all the world_  
That talked of her have talked amiss of her.  
If she be curst, it is for policy,  
For she's not froward, but modest as the dove.  
She is not hot, but temperate as the morn.

"He's saying that everybody who's said bad things about Katherine were wrong," Adam explained in an undertone. "That if she was fierce, it was for a reason, and that the way she appears is actually the opposite of her real personality."

Sarah thought about that. "My brother's like that."

That seemed to startle Adam, but he nodded. "Noah's lived the last several years pretending to be tough in order to get by."

"Yeah," she agreed, "but I could tell it was totally an act."

Adam smiled. "I think you might be the only one who saw that."

"I'm the only one who saw him for  _ever,"_ she said stoutly. "Until Finn and Kurt figured it out. Duh. I could've told them."

Sarah had a hard time keeping track of the meaning as the play continued, but she found herself entranced by the rhythm of the language.

She nudged Adam at one point. "It sounds like poetry."

"Well," he said, stifling his smile, "that's because it  _is._  They call it iambic pentameter. Five strong beats, five weak beats. Can you hear it?"

She spent the next several minutes listening for it, and eventually it became obvious. It reminded her of a rocking boat, the way the weak and strong beats worked together in each line, and she felt her own head swaying in time to the rhythm. Adam chuckled softly.

"I like it too," he said, nodding at the stage. "A lot of the poetic inspiration in my composition, my lyric-writing, it comes from people like Shakespeare." He traced her bracelet with one finger. "And e. e. cummings, and Emily Dickinson, and Samuel Coleridge, and a dozen other poets."

Sarah shrugged. "I never liked poetry. It's kind of dorky, isn't it?"

"Only if you let it be." He shrugged back, challenging her with his gaze, and Sarah had to smile. "Seriously. You give me a chance, I'll show you what I mean about inspiration."

"You've got yourself a deal," she said solemnly, holding out her hand. Adam, to his credit, didn't laugh, and took her hand, shaking it firmly.

* * *

"It was really nice of Stephen to set this room up on the third floor for us," Finn said, tentatively poking his head through the door.

Carl surveyed the room with a nod. "The third floor on the club side is usually reserved for private scenes run by senior Club council members. We're very fortunate there was a spare room this weekend. You won't hear any sound from any of the neighboring rooms, though; the soundproofing up here is practically airtight."

"Puck's been talking about this St. Andrew's cross thing since he got back from Tessera." He touched the enormous wooden structure, mounted to supports and laden with hooks for suspension. "He's going to love this."

"Well, my boy," Carl said, his voice silky. "I've always taught you a good Top should have experience with the equipment he uses with his subs." He ran his hand over the smooth wood, letting his hand drift over to rest on Finn's arm.

"You've been on a cross like this?" Finn blinked up, trying to imagine Carl cuffed there, his arms outstretched, wincing from the impact of a heavy flogger. He shivered.

"Many times," Carl affirmed. "But that's not what I was suggesting. I've told you a little about my speciality, but I haven't had adequate opportunity to  _show_  it to you."

"Your…" Finn let his words trail off as he realized what  _specialty_ Carl was referring to. He swallowed. "You're talking about the whip."

"The single-tail whip, yes. It's helpful to have subjects fastened to something because the work is by necessity so precise. If they can't move, they're a lot less likely to flinch and get hurt." He ran the flat of his hand over Finn's back, making him shiver again. "If you give me a moment, I'll gather my tools and show you."

Finn grimaced. "Um, I - excuse me, sir, you know I'm willing to try anything, but… I don't really like the idea of bleeding."

"Ah." Carl held up a hand, backing out of the room with a grin on his face. "That tells me you've only seen  _bad_  examples of single-tail use. A master of the single-tail should never have to leave stripes unless his subject desires them. I can temper the impact within a fraction of an inch. It's the difference between a breath of air on your skin and a stinging mark. I promise, Finn, I will  _never_  cut you with my whip's cracker unless you want me to." He raised an eyebrow. "Agreed?"

"Yes, sir," Finn said, bemused, and watched him disappear down the hall. Carl didn't tend to exaggerate, but Finn was sure there was no way he could be serious. No one could control the impact of a twelve-foot whip to that degree. But this was Carl, and Finn was going to trust him, because… because he did.

He unbuttoned his shirt and left it hanging on the hooks on the far wall, along with his t-shirt. Then he positioned himself in front of the large cross, holding on to the O-rings in lieu of having cuffs with which to latch himself to it. When Carl reentered the room, he was pleased by the way Carl's eyes lit up.

"You look just as delicious up there as I knew you would. But I've got something that'll make it easier." He set his satchel of tools down on the table, opening it to draw out a coiled maroon whip. Finn knew the care Carl took with this implement, and the amount of time he spent oiling it and keeping the leather in beautiful condition.

The next thing he brought out was hard to figure out. It looked like a bunch of straps of leather with snaps on the edges. When he draped it over Finn's bare shoulders and under his arms, he positioned one palm-sized ring in the center of his chest and another in the center of his back.

"What is this?" he had to ask, at last.

"It's an additional harness, to give me multiple points of contact between you and the cross. And suspension cuffs." He held them up, buckling them around Finn's wrists. "I don't really think you need them, but greater comfort makes a big difference when it comes to hanging from something by your arms. You'll want to use them on Puck, for certain; he's not as tall as you are." He was already helping Finn up against the cross, climbing up high enough to hook Finn's hands to the very top points. He leaned over to kiss him from above, making Finn smile. "Mmmm. That's nice. You really do look amazing."

"Yeah?" Finn wasn't sure he would have ever put himself in the  _amazing_  category, but he was willing to take Carl's word for it. He smiled shyly. "Thanks."

"Can you move your arms? Try tugging on the suspension points. You don't want a lot of lateral movement."

Finn tried, but he was fastened securely. It wasn't something he normally cared much about, being stuck in one place like that, but considering what Carl was about to do, he felt particularly vulnerable. "No sir."

Carl smiled. "Good. Just relax, now. You're going to want to listen to my directions and follow them precisely. When I teach you how to do this, you'd do well to have your subject in a comfortably submissive state before attempting single-tail work. Although it'd be a long, long time before you'd be working with actual human subjects. You'll spend plenty of time striking targets first, until you can demonstrate your technique." He stood behind Finn, leaned in and pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades. Then he backed up until he was standing in the center of the room. Finn tried to turn his head to look, but Carl immediately said, "Stop. Keep your eyes on the wall in front of you. Do you see the small mirror in the corner? Can you see me in it?"

"Oh!" Finn realized he could see not only see Carl, but he could also see himself, because of the way other mirrors were positioned in the room. "That's really cool."

Carl uncoiled the whip and shook it out, letting it unwind on the floor in front of himself. He gave it a few loose snaps of his hand, which did not cause the whip to crack. Carl had explained that the whip needed to be moving very fast for it to make that sound. Then Finn saw him take a little step back, then forward, bringing his arm down in a lightning-quick move, and there was what sounded like a gunshot. Finn flinched.

"If the noise bothers you, I can get you earplugs, but for most people, the sound is part of the experience. Can we try it like this for a while?"

"Yes sir," he said. Carl turned back toward him, smiling.

"My beautiful boy. You have no idea how excited I am to have a chance to work on you like this." Judging by the flush on his face and the way his leather pants were fitting, Carl was enjoying himself immensely. "Now, take a deep breath, and let it out to the count of six, nice and slowly."

Finn did what he was told. On the third beat of his exhale, he heard the  _crack_  of the whip, and immediately felt a warmth on his left shoulder. It didn't sting; he could just feel the heat of the passage of the cracker, that part of the whip that Carl showed him that could be detached from the whip.  _You always use a different cracker with each person,_  he had cautioned.  _Because you never know when you might accidentally draw blood, and unless you're in a fluid compact, you're not going to want to risk that with anyone._

"I felt that," he said.

Carl let the whip unwind a couple times, then did that same powerful movement, producing the same sound. This time Finn felt it on his right shoulder, in exactly the mirror location. He relaxed, marveling.

"How do you  _do_  that?" he demanded. Carl laughed.

"Honestly? Eight years of constant practice. Don't think I didn't earn my own stripes." Another strike, and this time it ghosted over the center of Finn's back, in the small space between the leather straps of the harness. "I made plenty of mistakes. And I can dig welts with the best of them. Some people — Davis included — really, really love that."

"Can you — I mean, can I feel…" Finn paused, not sure what to ask for. "Would you push me a little, sir? And I'll use my safeword if it feels bad?"

Carl looked surprised. "Do you really want that? I'm pretty sure you just told me you weren't interested in bleeding."

"I guess I didn't realize the kind of control you had." It was, Finn realized, an incredible turn-on to realize Carl could decide to maim him with a tiny flick of his wrist. Not that he would, but… he squirmed against the cross.

"Mmmm. Yes, I would be willing to do that with you, but… hang on. There was one more piece to this scenario." Carl set the whip down on the table, approaching Finn holding an object in his hand. He reached around to the front, unbuttoning Finn's jeans and pulling them down to his knees, positioning his legs wider. When he reached between Finn's legs with a brief, clinical, "Pressure, and my fingers," Finn barely had time to startle before Carl had slid a finger inside him to release the plug. He was very grateful for the support of the suspension cuffs and additional points of contact that Carl had added. "Doing okay?"

"Yes, sir," he said. There was an odd sensation as Carl slid something new inside of him. The switch had happened so quickly, and the size difference between what he'd had before and what was currently inside was not large, but he could tell it was not the same object.

And then Carl did something — Finn had no idea what it was, but clearly  _something_  happened, and he felt —

" _Fuck,"_  he yelped, jerking forward against the cross as the plug inside him began to vibrate.

"Language," Carl chided mildly. He backed up to the center of the room, and did the something again, and the vibration stopped. Just as Finn relaxed, he heard the  _crack_  of the whip, and there was a gentle impact between his shoulder blades. And this time, it stung — not badly, but enough for him to realize something had hit him.  _Faster than the speed of sound,_  he thought, and whimpered. "That's it, boy. You can let yourself hang, if you'd rather not stand there. I'm in control."

The cracker hit him again and again, a hundred times or more; Finn lost count after the first few minutes. Sometimes the blow was accompanied by the vibration of the plug, and sometimes it was not. There was barely a pause each time Carl unwound the whip, and not one of the impacts stung more than a gentle slap on his skin. Finn was feeling lightheaded before Carl even began, not from the suspension, but from the realization of exactly what was going on and how goddamn  _dangerous_  it really was. After ten minutes of that, Finn could barely feel his feet on the ground.  _Now I know why they call it 'flying,'_ he thought, and stifled an hysterical laugh.

"I'm ready, please, sir," he said, hearing himself begging, and not even caring, just feeling truly desperate for  _more, more._  When Carl paused, Finn realized that his back was already actually stinging. He bit his lip, digging in a little with his teeth.

"You can tell me to wait if it gets too intense," Carl said sternly, "but I won't stop unless you tell me."

Finn nodded. He didn't feel like he wanted to brace himself. He just felt so  _good,_  he couldn't imagine anything Carl did could feel  _bad._

But this time when the  _crack_  happened, it landed a physical blow. He grunted, feeling himself thrust against the cross with the impact. And then the pressure began. It fell into the center of his back, like an enormous hand wathrusting him forward. It took another five seconds for the burning sensation to start.

"Oh my god oh my god," he whimpered. The second blow fell, and the third, and suddenly he was smothering under the  _weight_  of Carl's infinitesimally tiny cracker. The pain was secondary to the shock of how powerful one little lick of a leather tongue could be. He was cowed by it.

Carl stroked the length of the whip, making Finn quiver. "Are you done?"

"I never want to be done." His tongue felt clumsy, but the words came out without hesitation. "Please don't stop."

Carl's smile was startled, but he nodded. "It's not too much?"

" _Don't stop,"_  he repeated, and Carl was immediately back in action, uncoiling the whip with smooth, measured strokes.

The next three landed diagonally, thrusting up between his ribs on the left, and then three more on the right, each accompanied by the tingling jolt of the vibrating plug. Now Finn could feel each discrete stripe as he received it. He blinked watery eyes, attempting to focus on the mirror, and saw the thready red lines on his back.

"You're marking me," Finn said, a little surprised. Carl paused, breathing hard from exertion.

"I am. Because you're mine. And because here, I want everybody to know it. Here, I can show you off." He struck again, this one landing on the curve just above his ass. Finn's entire back was on fire, but somehow it wasn't an unpleasant sensation, at all. He relished each  _crack_ , the intensity of it landing on his flesh, the gravity of each compounded blow. Another, along his spine, and two more flanking it on either side. "How does it feel, boy?"

"Amazing," he murmured. He rested his head against the cross, closing his eyes. "Sharp. Warm. Heavy."

"Yes," Carl said tenderly. "That's just the way I feel about you."

Finn's next breath came out as a sob. "Waterfall," he said, but Carl had already put the whip down on the table and was beside him, his eyes and hands carefully assessing Finn's situation. He stroked Finn's sweaty hair and kissed his cheek with patient care.

"I knew you'd love it." He sounded satisfied, and although Finn was absolutely certain Carl was still hard, he felt no desire to address that need. He heard the snap of a bottle of something being opened, and felt a sharp stinging on his abrasions. It hurt more than any part of the whipping had. "Don't worry, the sensation will fade in a few seconds. This is the part you'd want to do with gloves, if you were not already in a fluid compact with me."

It took a few moments for that comment to penetrate Finn's haze of endorphins. He sought Carl's eyes in the mirror, but Carl was focused on treating his back.

"I am?" he said, feeling slow.

"If you desire that. You and your boys, and Adam. We all tested clean, for all the things we could test for." He was hovering close to Finn's skin, not putting any pressure on it anywhere, but being right there nearby as he disconnected first the suspension cuffs, then each point of connection along his harness. When Finn's knees buckled and he sank to the floor, he was surprised to find a large cushion underneath him, broad and thick, like a big dog bed. It was easy to just collapse onto his stomach, his jeans still halfway down his thighs. Carl warned him with gentle fingers before he withdrew the vibrating plug.

"It's not something you have to decide right now," Carl added. Finn thought suddenly that he sounded uncertain, and he turned his head to look up at Carl.

"I want that," he said. "I want that so much."

Carl nodded, smiling. "It won't have much effect on what we do, you and I, not for — a long time. But your boys, they will be free to enjoy their lover without barriers, as long as Adam chooses not to have any other lovers." He held Finn's unmarked shoulder as he spoke. "We can talk about the details later. Right now, you need to drink this. Let me help you sit up."

It wasn't water, but some kind of sport drink, salty and unpleasant on Finn's tongue. He made a face, but he drank half of the bottle before Carl set it aside, then curled up on his side, feeling completely, utterly wonderful.

"The marks will fade in a couple days," Carl told him. "They won't be permanent."

"Yeah," Finn sighed. It made Carl laugh.

"It's a little soon for permanent anything between us, my boy." But he lay down on the cushion behind him, one hand resting protectively on his hip. When Finn shifted back, he could feel the heat and pressure of Carl's erection between them. He tried to roll over to face him, but Carl held him where he was. "That was enough for now. Your body needs rest. When you wake up, we can decide what's next."

* * *

Burt found Carole in their corner rooms when he returned from the workout facility. She smiled at him, spreading out her handiwork with the alpaca yarn on the coffee table. "I think Puck's having a good effect on you."

"Hey, that was all me," Burt objected, but he smiled back to defuse his comment, bending down to kiss her. "Kurt's the one who got me to the gym originally, but I'm the one who keeps going."

"I'm proud of you," she said. Her hand on his arm pulled him down to deepen the kiss, and her eyes sparkled at him with mischief. "And I can't say I object to the sweaty post-exercise making out."

He laughed, surprised, but she didn't appear to be teasing him. "Um... okay?" He took a seat next to her on the couch. "That's even more inspirational. You might get me to exercise more often."

Carole pointed a finger at the door, which faced the boys' adjoining rooms across the hall. "I'm thinking we might want to vacate this corridor this afternoon," she said, "unless we want to be witnesses to some very intimate, very noisy interaction."

Burt felt his cheeks flush hot. "You don't seem to have a problem with that happening."

"I don't think it's all that different from what they're already doing at home," she said calmly. "I already have a pretty good sense of the relationship between Carl and Finn, and likewise the ways in which Finn and Puck are interacting now. Honestly, I'm relieved they've come to terms with the things that were stopping them from - what they were doing."

_What they were doing,_  Burt repeated in his head. The images were a little too edgy for him to contemplate. He was pretty sure they involved some kind of impact, judging from the noises he heard emanating from his son's room on a regular basis, but he hadn't yet worked up the courage to ask  _how_  the impact occurred.

Then he was suddenly reminded of the conversation he'd had with Finn at Breadstix, in which Finn had admitted,  _I kind of miss getting hit -_  and Burt had agreed with him. He'd said,  _yeah, I get that,_  and he hadn't been lying. Burt shook his head, trying to assimilate everything he'd seen and heard this far that weekend - and tried  _not_  to proceed with the inevitable thought,  _and it's not even half over._

"I... guess I don't have a problem with it either," he said slowly. "I know I told Puck I didn't want any secrets, that I wanted to hear it all, but... honestly, I don't really know if I do?"

Carole watched him soberly, folding her handiwork into fourths, then smoothing it out again. "I think your instinct was a good one, to tell him it was safe to say anything to you. That doesn't mean you want to know every detail. You don't have to want to hear about your son's sex life."

Burt felt his discomfort flare into irritation. "Okay, that's something I don't get," he said. "How can - what they do - be  _sex?_  Hitting each other? Isn't there something fundamentally wrong with with that impulse?" Carole visibly bristled, and he added hastily, "Not that Finn's doing anything  _wrong._  I'm not saying that. I just... I don't think he really understands what he's doing. They're just kids, you know? They're experimenting."

"Burt," Carole sighed. Burt waited for more, but Carole didn't say anything else. She wound her yarn into a ball and tucked it into her bag, setting the bag next to their bed. Burt met her there as she straightened up, sliding his arms around her waist.

"I have so much respect for Finn," he said. "You know that. I'm not talking trash about him in any way."

"No, it's... it's not that." She wouldn't meet his eyes. He brushed her hair back from her face.

"What is it, then?"

Carole closed her eyes, shifting restlessly. "Being here, it's bringing up... a lot of memories."

Burt watched her, his concern mounting. "Memories? Like, bad ones?"

"Not bad ones," she replied. Then she shook her head, smiling, and kissed him briefly on the lips. "It's not a problem. I'm really enjoying being here."

"Me, too." It was true, Burt decided. He was appreciating the time with Carole, and his son, and Puck and Sarah, and Finn. He was learning so much about his boys and how they interacted together, even if some of it was challenging. He smiled back, trying to be reassuring. "You ready to head down for lunch?"

They managed to snag Sarah on the way out the door, walking back from God-knows-where with Adam, and convince her to join them for a meal. Tess met them all in the family dining room. She seemed to understand his glance rotating through the boys he was responsible for, and their older compatriots. Sarah was occupied with her iPod for most of the meal, but Tess was the one to speak up with a suggestion.

"Burt? Stephen needs to give the Suburban a once over, while the engine is missing. And no," she said, holding up a hand, preventing him from speaking. "That is not a request for your assistance; you're on vacation here. But I thought perhaps you might like to see the cars, and the garage facilities. Most of the managers, as well as my father and I, own classics."

He sat up, taking notice of the offer, and a brief glance at Kurt showed that he looked relieved.

"That would be great," he agreed. "Classics, you said?"

"Oh, yes," she said, her tone casual. "My father's is here at the moment, actually, so that should be a treat. The Fury is probably the oldest car we keep. The boys and I lean towards muscle cars, though my classic is a little more sentimental, not nearly as much engine and testosterone."

Burt grinned. "Yeah, sure. The boys said you have plans with them?"

"Yes, but it would be lovely to steal a few minutes to walk into the garages with you."

"Can I see?"

The small voice nearly startled Tess, but she smiled at Sarah nonetheless. "Of course, Sarah."

"I don't know a lot about them, but Tatenui will teach me," the girl said confidently, with a look at Burt.

Burt's face softened. "I don't mind the idea of making you into a junior grease monkey, not at all," he said easily, and Puck snorted.

"Maybe she can help keep my truck off the scrap heap."

Burt started to frown. "That truck…"

"Is not here with us in Iowa," Kurt said, his voice sounding prim and high handed, even to Burt. Several heads swiveled to look at him, and he had the grace to blush. "I want to see the garage too, but I promised my time already." He brought his gaze up to look at Tess. "Ma'am?"

Tess looked pleased. "Honey, you can ask James, or Stephen, or Alec, to see the garage at any time, or look to see if that's where your dad is at. The same rules apply though," she cautioned, and her gaze swept the table. "No working or playing alone, in any area here, unless you've cleared it with someone. That does exclude the bedrooms and the library. But please; this is a big place, and there are... certain risks... in some of the rooms."

"I'm sure they'll all be responsible," Burt said firmly, looking at each of the young men, and even including Timothy and Jacob in his gaze. "As will Carole and I, and Sarah."

"Shall we?" Tess rose smoothly, inviting Burt to join her, and Sarah was immediately behind them like a small shadow.

* * *

In the end, it was a small party Tess led into the garages, with Alec and Stephen looking pleased for the company. She didn't just have Burt and Sarah, Carl trailed them as well, and Tess knew that her boy was hoping to have a word with her.  _Well, he'll get it._

She opened the door, leading them through the empty garage bay that usually held the Suburban, and then into the lift room, which had a clear view of the entire length of the garage and all the bays. Tess had them up on a viewing platform where she and her father often liked to watch the boys work without being in their way.

Their gazes swept up the line of a half a dozen cars, and she heard Carl splutter.

"Jesus  _Christ_ , Tess, you still have that thing?"

Burt chuckled at the outburst, unwittingly saving Carl from Tess' wrath. "An Audi 5000 - what year?"

"Nineteen eighty-three," Tess said with a smirk.

"Rebuilt?"

"Yes. I picked it up for five thousand, in eighty-six."

"Nice," Burt admired, and Tess noted Carl vanishing, out of the corner of her eye.

"Thank you. I rather thought so at the time," she confided to the mechanic.

"Yes. Sweet deal - and wow - that must be your dad's, that a fifty-seven? Sarah, look at those fins!"

Sarah stared at the enormous back end of the car with reluctant interest, clearly not wanting to disappoint him. "Um, yeah; whatever. They're really tall, I guess?"

Burt smiled, running a gentle hand over the paint. "Yeah - look at the back tail lights. See how that comes up like a shark fin? There you go. That's a fifties car, if it's got those. Fifty-seven, they were higher than any other year, for almost all models of car made. A Jag, a 300, an F250... and wow." He turned to look in the other direction. "You do have a stable here, don't you? A T-bird? An old Cutlass. That's fantastic, Tess. Whose is whose?"

"I'll leave that to Stephen - and father said you're welcome to pop the hood on the '57 if you want. He's got one of his boys out at the halfway house who's using his second garage stall to rebuild a 1940 Estate Wagon."

That made Burt whistle again. "You're making me jealous. The closest thing I've got to a classic right now is Puck's junker of a truck." He glanced at Sarah. "No offense."

"Nah," she agreed. "It's a piece of crap, which kind of makes sense, considering it was my dad's."

"Sarah," he reprimanded, but it was mild. He put a hand on her back, looking over at Tess. "I've been trying to get Puck to sell it, let me give him something newer, more appropriate for a little baby, you know? But so far I don't think he'd go for it."

Tess considered this as they wandered through the rows. "Perhaps what he really needs is an opportunity to make something of his own? Provide him with a safe, reliable car that needs rebuilding, and the chance to help him do it together."

Burt opened his mouth and closed it again, but Sarah tugged on his sleeve. "He'd totally do that!" she insisted.

"That's some idea," Burt said grudgingly. "And not so different from what I did with Kurt, back when he was a freshman. It took more than a couple months, though, which is about all Puck has before the baby's due."

"So supply a car that's in good repair. The amount of work isn't important, Burt... and honestly, if Noah is as motivated as I believe him to be to be a good father, I suspect he's going to appreciate all the support you can offer him."

Burt frowned. "I don't know if that's actually true. Just this week, Kurt and Finn cleaned out my office to make a space for him and the baby, and Puck all but said no, right there. I can't figure him out sometimes."

"Oh, that's easy." They both turned to face Sarah, who was crossing her skinny arms in absolute certainty.

"What is?"

"Noah's freaking out about taking something from you without giving anything in return. It makes him feel guilty, and  _that_ makes him want to run."

"Oh." Burt looked even more confused. "But… that's what kids are supposed to do from their parents, right? Take without giving back. I mean, it's simplistic, but pretty much true."

"Not in our family. We all had to pull our weight. Everybody has a role to play. I think Noah's just freaking out because he doesn't know what his role is anymore."

Tess smiled gently at Sarah. "Do you know what his role is?"

She thought about it. "I do," she decided, "but I think I'd rather wait for Noah to figure it out for himself."

* * *

It didn't take long for Carl to find Finn, Adam, Kurt and Puck. He just followed his stomach to the adjoining room between their two suites, where the four of them were seated around the glass coffee table, each boy bearing a plate of sandwiches. Finn was wedged into one of the soft leather chairs of which Tess was so fond, while Kurt was on his stomach on the couch, resting comfortably with his head on Adam's lap. Puck was sprawled out on the floor, looking like he might have just been massaged into noodle status. Adam's bare feet were planted on Puck's back like a living footrest. They all looked about as calm and relaxed as Carl had ever seen them.

Finn's face lit up as Carl entered the room. Carl grabbed a chair from the dining table and brought it over beside him, sitting down and resting a hand on Finn's thigh.

"Comfortable?" he murmured, and Finn colored, glancing at Puck and Kurt.

"Fine," was his only response, but he brushed Carl's hand with the back of his knuckles, then left his hand there.

"What are we talking about?" Carl said, raising his voice to include the other three.

"Steven, James and Alec," Kurt said contentedly, kicking his feet in the air as Adam stroked a loving hand down his spine. "They're amazing." He sniffed at Puck. "You still didn't tell us anything about them, Noah, and I know you spent time with them while you were here." Kurt glanced up to catch Finn's eye and wink, knowing that Carl was watching Finn. "Maybe someone should spank you for that."

"What?" Puck's yelp made Carl grin. He tried to scramble out from under Adam's feet, but Adam simply pressed down harder and kept him there.

"Noah," he chided in his light, musical voice. "You could just tell us about them."

"Jeez," Puck muttered, and then sighed as the sole of Adam's foot slapped onto his bottom with enough intent to make him think twice. "Well, okay… I know I've told you guys about James. James was in the Marine Corps. And when he got out he went to school for cooking, and he knew Tess' dad, and... here he is." Puck glared defiantly at Kurt. "Good enough? He's awesome. He likes cars and bikes and all that extreme sports stuff; he's a complete dude. And he's a shit scary Top -  _ow_! What the - Finn?"

"Watch your mouth," Carl suggested, having nudged Finn to smack Puck's bottom under the curious gaze of the others. He was pretty sure it hadn't been terribly hard, but enough to sting. "Tess doesn't put up with the swearing at all, and it'll be a lot worse than a swat if she or any of the 'awesome guys' hear you."

Kurt frowned, but he kept quiet. Carl watched Adam's response, but the older boy was sanguine, remaining calm with his hand on Kurt's back.

"Okay," Puck continued, his tone miffed. "Sor-ry. For the love of -"

"Noah."

Puck ducked his head into his arms for a moment under Adam's added censure, though his name had been spoken very lovingly.

"You guys want to hear this or what?" he said, his voice muffled.

"Yes," Kurt said, clearly annoyed, and Puck peeked up just in time to see Adam increase the pressure on Kurt's back, and witness Kurt sighing with relief.

"Okay, so... Stephen. He was in the Marine Corps too, but he didn't tell me where he grew up either. Except he didn't like it, and took a break after his enlistment. Raced cars for a while, before he went back into the Corps. And he and James knew each other. So when he finally quit, he learned some trade that I forget." Puck propped himself up on his elbows, looking thoughtful. "But he totally loves this place like anything, just as much as he loves Lady Tess."

"What about Alec?" asked Finn.

"Alec was in the military too. He's the IT and security manager for Tessera. I dunno where he learned, because what kind of geek does  _both_?" Puck sounded puzzled.

Kurt cocked his head. "Both what, Noah?"

"He's a tattoo artist."

Carl watched Kurt's eyes widen, and he shot up, clutching Adam's shirt. Adam supported him with one arm, smiling curiously.

"A tattoo artist!" Kurt breathed. "Oh... that's so  _perfect!"_

All the eyes in the room fixed on Kurt, who didn't seem to notice.

"I've been thinking about what we could do, something that represents all of us, so I'd — well, so I'd always have you with me. Something related to music, since that's what ties us all together. Noah, you remember I've been talking about it almost since we began? I just never thought we'd have the opportunity before we turned eighteen..."

"And you won't have it now," Carl interjected. Kurt stopped his flow of words, turning to stare at Carl. "I hate to burst your bubble, Kurt, but there's no way Alec would agree to tattooing a minor."

"Without permission," Finn added slowly. He furrowed his eyebrows at Kurt. "You really think your dad would say yes? I mean, your dad's great, but I kind of doubt it."

"Leave that to me," Kurt said. He sounded far too dismissive for Carl's taste, but Carl knew he had already overstepped his boundaries when he'd prompted Finn to swat Puck. He wasn't going to push it by reprimanding Kurt.

"Honey," said Adam, looking doubtful. "Tattoos are more permanent than a piercing. I didn't get my first one until I was twenty-seven."

Kurt bristled. "Please don't tell me you're saying I'm too young to make decisions about permanent things."

_Yes,_  thought Carl, as loudly as he could manage in his head. He was pleased to see Adam's hand move to rest on Kurt's behind.

"Maybe," said Adam. "But I'm also saying if you get one, I might ask you to let me get one, too."

Kurt opened his mouth, but paused without saying anything, and his mouth just remained ajar as he blinked in surprise. Puck shifted to sit up and face them, grinning broadly.

"Dude," he said. "You  _totally_  need one. That's the point, right? We should all get the same one."

Adam tugged Kurt to a sitting position, sliding a hand over to clasp his with a conspiratorial smile. "Something to reflect the group of us." He looked up at Carl. "All of us."

Carl was startled into a laugh. "Me?"

"Yeah," Finn said. His voice was quiet and warm, and Carl felt oddly touched. "Yeah, I think if we did anything like that, it should be all five of us." He nodded at Kurt and Adam. "Anyway, you've already got four."

"No, I only have two," Adam replied, holding out his wrist, where the Eye of Horus and the infinity symbol were clearly visible. Finn shook his head, smiling.

"I meant Carl."

Now they were all looking at him. Carl straightened up, wondering how he should handle this. Did Finn expect him to take off his clothes and  _show_  them? He stifled a sigh. "Yes, that's right. I wouldn't say the first one was particularly well thought out, either. I hope you'd learn from my example."

Adam looked intrigued. "Let me guess. You got it while you were drunk."

"Worse." Carl grimaced. "I got it while I was sober. And I  _still_  got it."

Finn nudged his arm, grinning. "Now you  _have_  to show them."

Carl rolled his eyes, but he stood and turned around, hiking his shirt up on his back and tugging his jeans down far enough to reveal the Rolling Stones logo situated on the small of his back. He heard a hoot of laughter from Puck.

"You have a  _tramp stamp?"_

"Noah," Finn snapped. Carl heard the slap before he could turn around. When he looked, it was Kurt crouching beside Puck, both hands on his shoulders. Puck was rubbing his hip, looking resigned.

"You guys aren't going to let me get away with anything, are you?" he muttered.

"No," chorused Adam and Kurt, and Finn cracked up. Carl wanted to facepalm at the same time he wanted to laugh out loud, and settled on a smile as a happy medium.

"Show them the rest," Finn urged.

Apparently he wasn't going to get out of this. Carl lifted his polo shirt over his head. When he emerged from under the fabric, Finn was eyeing him with absolutely no subtlety whatsoever.

"Oh, gorgeous," Adam said approvingly. He flashed a toothy smile at Carl. "The tattoo's not bad either."

Kurt flushed red, hiding behind his hand, but Puck was already leaning forward on his knees to inspect the eagle on Carl's left bicep.

"I got it when I made first lieutenant," he explained, tracing the edges of the circled insignia. "It's the seal of the United States Army." He showed them the right bicep, where the Tessera T was emblazoned in stark black ink. "And this one before I went to graduate school."

"And the fourth one?" Adam asked.

Carl turned, putting his hand over his shoulder to touch where he knew they would see the gold star inscribed on his left shoulder blade. "When my baby went to kindergarten."

He didn't go into detail about the way Hiram and Leroy had given Rachel every opportunity to shine from the time she was a toddler, nor the way they'd taught her to embellish her childish scrawl with the same gold star Carl had had tattooed on his skin years before. It wasn't the kind of thing he talked about with anybody - nor could he, until Rachel turned eighteen. Luckily, none of the boys asked for clarification.

"I might suggest," said Adam, wrapping his arms around Kurt from behind, "that we choose something small. Subtle. You don't need a big gesture to make a big impact."

"A treble clef," mused Kurt. "Or - I know! A musical phrase." He bit his lip, looking at Finn. "Triplet sixteenths. Three notes, tied together. Like on our Christmas ornaments."

"Nice," said Puck, sounding approving.

"But you guys are sixteen," Finn pointed out, "and I'm seventeen."

Kurt laughed. "Okay... yes." He tapped his finger on the glass coffee table. "Something to make the note last a little longer?" He looked at Adam, but Adam didn't appear to be forthcoming with a response. Carl spoke up.

"Dot the last sixteenth on your tattoo," said Carl, "and that'll add an additional one-thirty-secondth to the triplet. Just a little bit longer," he clarified, at Finn's quizzical expression.

Finn's face cleared. "Yeah." Then it clouded again. "But what about you? And - um, and Adam? Where are you guys in this triplet?"

"It's okay," Adam said, shaking his head, but Kurt clutched his arm, pulling it back down.

"No!" he insisted. "You both need to be in it. This is about all of us, together."

The five of them were silent, shifting closer together on their seats, leaning their heads in while they thought. Carl watched Adam as he idly played with Puck's mohawk. He suspected Adam wasn't as calm about this as he appeared to be, but he couldn't be sure he was interpreting him correctly, considering he'd only met Adam two days ago.

"Isn't there a thing," Puck began, then paused, knitting his brow. "You know, where you hold a note for, like, a long time? As - as long as you want to?"

"A fermata," murmured Adam, a smile spreading across his lips. Puck gazed up at Adam, mirroring his smile.

"Yeah. That."

Kurt's face was shining. "As long as you want to," he echoed. "Like the note you sang in  _Come to Me, Bend to Me."_

Adam's response was to lean over and kiss him gently, lingering a little longer than might be appropriate in ordinary mixed company, but none of the others were complaining.

"I'll be your fermata," he said. "It would be my honor."

"Dude, I know what Carl needs," said Puck. They all waited for the conclusion, but Puck didn't appear to be forthcoming.

"What?" Finn prompted.

Puck grinned wickedly, poking a finger into Carl's bare chest. "A sharp."

Carl heard Kurt's muted gasp. He did not reach out and swat away Puck's finger, nor did he take Puck over his knee. Instead, he waited. He knew none of the other boys would reprimand Puck for language, so he'd felt justified in doing that. But this... he was certain none of them would let Puck's comment slide, and they did not disappoint him.

"All right," Adam said, capturing Puck's arms behind his back. Puck struggled, complaining loudly, but either Adam was stronger than he looked or Puck wasn't actually trying very hard. Either way, he settled down eventually, looking sullen.

"You know," Finn said, conversationally, leaning in toward Adam, "when Puck first met Carl, he made… a pretty bad mistake."

"Oh really?" Adam grinned at Finn, keeping Puck still. "What did Noah do?"

"No, I mean  _Carl_  made a mistake. This was before… before. But Carl thought Puck had already had his paperwork done, and that he would be treated just like any of the other subs who came to his office? And when Puck was out of line, Carl treated him accordingly."

"It was a grievous error," Carl agreed, grimacing. None of them were looking at Puck. "I apologized, but I was also punished for my actions."

"Oh, I see." Adam nodded sagely. "Are you saying you got punished for touching someone without their permission?"

"Dude," Puck growled, struggling harder, "who's  _touching without permission_  now?"

"Mmm." Adam turned his head to press his lips to Puck's ear. "The difference here, honey, is that you  _gave_  me permission. And you can take it away, any time. You know how."

Carl watched Puck grow still, a look of anxious frustration crossing his face. "I don't."

Adam didn't move one inch away from Puck. "You don't know, or you don't want to?"

"Don't want to," he whispered.

When Adam let his arms go, Carl thought Puck was going to panic. He staggered, reaching — and Kurt was standing right there in front of him, ready to grasp his hands, holding them just as tight as Adam had done.

"You're my good boy," Kurt said firmly. " _Our_  good boy. And you're  _safe_  here. You can be exactly who you need to be.  _Stop worrying."_

Puck stood there for several moments, breathing hard and trembling, before he let Kurt wrap him in a hug. Finn's hand crept into Carl's and held on, watching the two of them proceed slowly into the bedroom. When they shut the door behind them, Adam let out his own breath.

"That was really quite remarkable," Carl murmured, nodding at Adam. "Watching the way you all handled Puck."

"Yeah, well." Adam laughed, sinking to the edge of the couch as he shook his head. "I'll be honest. I don't actually know what I'm doing most of the time."

"You trust your intuition. There's nothing wrong with that."

"I'm just saying I wouldn't blame you if you're judging me, because I totally deserve it."

Carl made a dismissive gesture. "You're never going to convince me of that. And whatever judgments I make are my own, and wouldn't affect the respect I afford you as a fellow Top. Don't sell yourself short."

"Yeah," Finn added. "You're great with him, man. I trust you, and he's been my best friend since we were kids."

Adam's disbelieving smile was remarkably endearing. Carl reached out and grasped his shoulder, and he responded with a bigger smile.

"Well, if you think Kurt's serious about this tattoo business…?" Carl watched Finn's nod. "Then we might want to let him talk to his father while we do some advance preparation with Alec."

* * *

As it happened, Kurt didn't take long to get Puck past submission and into comatose snoring, and the four of them went together to find the IT specialist. He briefly described Kurt's plan to him. As Carl had expected, Alec wasn't thrilled with the idea — and he  _especially_  wasn't happy with Kurt's wheedling.

"I'd really rather not bother my father with this issue," Kurt said. He probably thought he sounded perfectly reasonable. "And it is my skin, after all."

Alec barely glanced up from his security reports. "Tough. Go get your dad."

Kurt looked up at Finn in appeal. "But Carl is here. And Adam —"

He waved his hand, ignoring the begging. "I don't give a flying fuck, aside from the fact that your Tops agree. You go and get your dad. I don't have his permission, or your mom's permission, nothing happens."

"Alec," Carl began, but Kurt was already bristling.

"My  _mom's_  been dead for eight years, and if  _she_  were here, she would tell you that I'm ready to make my own decisions about these things."

Alec just laughed. He raised an eyebrow at Adam. "You gonna take this bullshit from your sub?"

"It's — not quite like that," Adam said hastily. He took Kurt's arm, giving Carl a whispered  _sorry_. "Come on, honey — and you, too, Finn. We'll talk to your dad."

Carl sighed, watching them go. "So much for trying to help. I need a drink."

Alec hauled himself to his feet, slipping an arm around Carl's waist. "Maybe between the two of us, we could convince James to join us in a bottle of something cold."

They found both James and Stephen in the kitchen, about to head into one of the small, private sitting rooms that adjoined the library with a "five o' clock tray," as the chef liked to refer to it, including wine. James was apparently bemused by the appearance of Carl alone.

"Where's your entourage?"

Carl counted off the others on his fingers. "I'm pretty sure Puck's sister is with Lydia. Puck's asleep after a mid-afternoon thrashing. Kurt and Finn have Adam batting for them with Kurt's father."

James grunted. "Why the family conference?"

"They want tattoos," he said, looking directly at Alec, who was already sprawled on the floor, though he sat up a little to accept the glass of rosé from James. "How did that cat get out of the bag?"

Alec shrugged. "Puck was curious about mine, back when he was here before the holidays. Didn't think anything of it."

Carl sighed. "It's gone from Kurt wanting one, to scheming up something that ties the three of them together - and he's managed to pull Adam and me into it as well." He grinned a little at the round of knowing looks. "Not that I mind. And I know all about the three of you devils. Because I remember  _that_  set of tats, from just before the club opened, and I certainly won't forget how furious Beau was."

It was easier to relax as the three of them laughed together. Carl made himself comfortable along the floor beside Alec's legs, propped up against the couch facing Stephen.

"What did you think of the staging on the third floor, you and your boy?" Stephen asked.

That made Carl smile. "He loved it. I told Tess that Adam was probably responsible enough to take the other two there if he wanted."

"Probably?" James asked, with an eyebrow raised.

"I think he is, watching them together, but you know how she is about understanding people for herself, and not taking anyone's word on it."

"True."

"So what have I missed around here that Tess is keeping quiet about?"

"Sex, drugs, and rock and rollllll," Alec laughed, chin resting on his arm as he waggled his eyebrows at Carl in a distinctly lewd manner.

Carl rolled his eyes, and leaned forward and smacked his ass, hard enough that Alec yelped.  _"Hey!"_

"Relax," Carl told him, rolling his eyes. "Try again maybe — ack! James, I — James —  _ow_!" He twisted in the bigger man's grip desperately, as way more than a few hard swats impacted his dark trousers, lighting a mild fire on a surface that hadn't been spanked in absolutely months. He wished momentarily for his jeans as he restrained himself from rubbing, when James set him back on his feet. " _James_. What the hell was that about?"

James yanked him in closer, and got a hand in under Carl's chin, making him look the several inches up into the big man's green eyes.

"Don't forget your place, boy," the senior Top said quietly. "You may be part of this family, Jesse, but you're not in a position to be disciplining any of us."

Carl flushed. "I'm sorry, Alec," he said immediately, meaning it. "I was out of line."

"S'okay," Alec responded, waving him off.

"No," Carl told him, with a sigh. "I am. It's kind of a lot of pressure, with the boys, and I really didn't think."

"Tess'll fix that," Stephen remarked, and as Carl bristled, he smirked. "And I wouldn't worry too much about that. She'll wait, you know her. If Adam's flying out from here, you've got an excuse to stay over a day to talk things over with her, not drive back with the family. She worries about you, you know."

"I — oh, God." Carl was suddenly at a loss for words. He wanted it. But not where the boys could witness, and he sure as hell didn't want to worry Tess.

"Relax," James told him, relieving him of his wineglass to refill it halfway. "Sip that slow, Carl. Sit down, tell us how your client practice is going. I have a mentoring project that ought to be wearing nothing but a collar, cuffs and a belt, so I can take the damn leather off him and spank him on the bare with less fuss and bother."

Carl felt the smart on his behind, but it didn't stop him from reacting suspiciously to James' statement. "Yeah? You've got a new boy of your own? What does that imply about how you're taking care of Davis, I wonder? Out of sight, out of mind?"

There was just a passing rush of air, indicating the fact that James had moved and Carl found himself gasping for a breath, because in the heartbeat between him finishing his sentence and noticing the movement, James had stood up, propped a foot on the coffee table, and dumped Carl straight over his thigh.

His feet dangled, Carl noted absently, before a hideously loud report sounded in the room, which drove a little more of the air out of his lungs - and then he felt the serious, immediate burn of a thorough spanking. James didn't bother to say anything while he did it, and squirming sure wasn't helping Carl any, and he couldn't really get in a good breath to protest very much.

_"James,"_  he gasped, but that was as far as he got.

"So much for remembering your place,  _boy,_ " James remarked, sounding calm as a cucumber, except his hand was still blazing down on Carl's backside, rapid-fire and painful. Carl sort of lost track of how many swats, or how long it was, aware that he was grasping more and more tightly to James' calf muscle, which was the only thing he was able to put his hand on, pinned as he was.

"S-sir," said Carl in desperation, and heard Alec's satisfied chuckle.

The fusillade of swats paused. "Well, now. That's a  _little_  more like it. You want to brat me some more? I can take my belt off, Jesse, not a problem."

Carl gritted his teeth at the name.  _You don't get to call me that,_  he wanted to say, but even in the state he was in, he knew better than to actually do it. "I... don't think I require that, but trust me, I'll keep you posted."

James tucked Carl a little more firmly into his waist, and smacked down another half a dozen times.

"I'm serious about the attitude, Jesse. I know being topped by a dude isn't your cup of tea, but you're about one or two smart remarks away from me keeping you pinned here while Stephen goes to interrupt Tess in her meeting and bring her here to deal with you personally. Let me remind you if you've forgotten. A mouthful of disrespect is not something you offer to any of us here - not the staff, and definitely not the family. We know you're Tess' family, Jesse. Whether or not you want to include us in the roster is your business, but you've been sitting here like that was the plan, so here we are. What'll it be? Do we finish this, or does Stephen go for Tess?"

"No," he ground out, and hung his head. "I'm... fuck, James, I'm sorry."

There was a heavy sigh from above him, which he felt as much as he heard it. And then he hollered as James smacked down another six times. "That's for the swear. Be glad Tess didn't hear that, because if she had, it'd have been more like a dozen with that quirt of hers. You're here with your boy, and you'd better be on your  _best_  behavior."

Each swat was far more of a release than he'd intended to gain from this encounter - indeed, James was just about the only man on this earth, other than Beau, from whom Carl could imagine accepting this kind of treatment. By the time James was done with him, Carl found himself lying limply against his thigh, breathing as best as he could with a knee in his ribs. "I got it."

Carl felt James wait a minute, as his breathing evened out, hearing the acquiescence in Carl's tone. There weren't any more comments he needed to make, and he felt himself he gently set on his feet, though James were holding onto him strongly. The big arms fenced him in, pulling him in closely, and Carl knew that it was an offer: if he needed to lean against the strength of James' chest for a few minutes, he could. It was too tempting to resist.

"I've got you, boy," James murmured. "We're just family. No walls, no posturing." He chuckled. "Just us grownups."

Carl let out a long, shuddering breath, collapsing against James' firm warmth. James didn't move, just stood like a silent, anchoring rock. He didn't move to stroke Jesse's spine the way Tess would have, nor bark at him the way he remembered Beau doing once or twice.

"God," Carl said weakly, "I really need this."

"So you do," James agreed. He took a step backward to his comfortable place on the couch he'd been sitting on, and brought Carl down right into his lap, minding the sore backside. Now a big hand came up, gently touching Jesse's skull, which was finally not racketing around with a bunch of noise, and the touch guided him to rest his head on James' shoulder. A moment later, he opened his eyes as Alec put his wine glass back in his hand.

"I'd sip, or Stephen will be begging for his turn at your backside. I wouldn't recommend it, by the way."

Carl laughed despite himself, holding the stem of the glass with tentative fingers, and gave Alec a grateful smile. "He's got my best interests at heart, just like the two of you do."

"Hey, it ain't like all of us don't need that now and again, huh?"

"Tell me about it," Carl agreed fervently. He took another breath, this one coming much more easily, and leaned back against James with an overwhelming sense of relief. "I must say, it's good to be..."

"Home?" Stephen slid in next to them with a smile, wrapping a hand around Carl's knee, warm and comforting. "It's here whenever you need it, brat."

The endearment tempered Carl's rush of emotion somewhat, but it didn't stop a few tears from welling up in his eyes. He brushed them away irritably with the side of his hand. "Thank you. All of you."

He felt, rather than saw, Stephen carefully rescue his wineglass from his hand, and relieve James of his as well, and then James' arms came fully around him, as Alec hefted himself up on the couch to sit on James' other side, close enough that Carl could feel the warmth of him, instead of the chill of a Tessera winter afternoon.


	4. Saturday, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn, Puck and Kurt have a moment to reconnect. Sarah explores Tessera and gets caught, after which Adam issues her a challenge. Adam gets invited to the third floor with the rest of the boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes a lot of Adam and Sarah, but a little of everybody, including introducing two other key players at Tessera, Phillip and Lydia. Warnings for flogging/whipping and D/s negotiations. 
> 
> -amy and flinchflower

It took forty-five minutes for Kurt to get his dad from  _you're getting tattooed over my dead body,_  to  _sleep on it while I talk to Carole._  Finn had to shake his head.

"I'm impressed. My boyfriend's a master manipulator."

"I'm offended," Kurt declared cheerfully, tugging him down the hallway. "Perhaps I will choose to hear it as a compliment."

"Whatever, dude. You're a lot closer to making this happen than I ever thought you would be. I think you can hear it any way you want."

The stairs in this place were like Hogwarts. Finn didn't realize where Kurt was taking him until they were standing outside the door to Adam, Puck and Kurt's suite. He paused, hanging back, when Kurt moved to open the door.

"You sure it's okay for me to come in?" Finn asked.

"What the hell does that mean?" Kurt stared at him. "You're my boyfriend.  _Our_  boyfriend is sleeping off his disciplinary hangover in there."

"Kurt, don't try to pretend this weekend isn't about Adam. And Adam has nothing to do with me." Finn shrugged, not looking away. "You get to have your thing, you know? I'm not standing in the way. But I know Puck's not wearing  _our_  collar right now."

Kurt reached for the doorknob and pushed the door open. "How many times has Noah ever told you no?"

Finn laughed. "A lot. And I know he never meant it." He followed Kurt in the room, shutting the door behind him, and dropping his volume down three notches. "But he's not really the problem."

"You have a problem with Adam, you talk to him about it. I'm absolutely sure he wouldn't tell you you couldn't have anything you wanted."

"Yeah?" Finn watched Kurt strip down to t-shirt and underwear with a kind of amused incredulity. Kurt always did that to him, but it was especially strong when Finn watched him take off his clothes:  _I get this? He really wants me?_  He huffed out a sigh when Kurt brought his hands up to unbutton Finn's shirt. "You think if I said to him,  _Puck's going to wear my collar when I put him up on that St. Andrews cross, not yours,_  he wouldn't decide to deck me?"

Kurt smiled, broad and delighted. "I think he might ask to watch."

Finn let that startling idea settle over him for several moments. Then he realized he should probably say something before Kurt saw his back. "Um, so… we tried it out? The St. Andrews cross. Carl did, I mean. And he — he used the signal whip, on my back, and —"

Kurt's eyes widened. He seized Finn's arm and swiveled him around to examine his back, almost knocking him down. "Oh my  _god."_

"Yeah," Finn agreed. "You're telling me. I seriously had  _no idea_  what he could do with that thing. I went in saying  _I don't want to bleed_  and ended up begging him for — well, basically that."

He felt Kurt's fingers trace the raised, thready lines on his back. Finn had spent a good deal of time in front of the mirror, looking over his shoulder at the marks, feeling an amazing combination of proud and embarrassed. He knew just what they looked like, but he had no idea what Kurt was going to think of them.

"I just… don't even know what to say." He felt Kurt gingerly lean his cheek against Finn's back. "I don't feel protective of you very often, but this is… intense. And maybe I'm a little jealous."

Finn laughed, surprised again. "What? Really?"

"A little," Kurt insisted. "Not really." When Finn turned around to face him, he was hiding behind crossed arms, frowning ferociously. "Maybe."

"Wow." Finn gathered him up, ignoring the grumbled protests. "You know I would do that for you any time you wanted."

"I know." Kurt snuggled close to Finn's bare chest. "But  _not_ with the whip. You are not getting anywhere near me with a whip until Carl can assure me you have exceeded expectations with precision and control."

But when Kurt crawled onto the enormous bed toward Noah, Finn made a little gasp that stopped him where he was. He turned back to look at him with concern.

"What is —"

"Kurt,  _your_  back." Finn reached out a hand to touch the marks. They were so numerous, Finn didn't think he could count them all. Kurt craned his neck to see.

"Oh, god," Kurt whispered. "I had no idea — I can't feel them, so I just —" He paused, stricken. "Finn, my  _dad_  saw these this morning in the bathroom."

Finn choked on a laugh, inspiring a sleepy murmur from Puck. "I guess he's dealing okay, though?" He lifted the cover beside Puck and crawled in beside him, while Kurt joined him on the other side. "It can't be any worse than my mom finding that text from Carl."

"Carl sends dirty texts?" Puck was fully awake now, grinning up at Finn. "Hey, check it out, there're two naked guys in my bed."

Finn pretended to think. "No," he decided, grinning, "Carl hasn't had two guys in his bed in a long time. He wouldn't send me a text like that."

"Heh." Puck wrapped his arms around Finn, giving him a long, dirty kiss. "Maybe we should change that."

"Noah," Kurt sighed, moving in to hold him from behind. "Do you need  _another_  spanking?"

"No, I'm just saying —" Puck froze in comical surprise as his fingers found the lines on Finn's back. He groped him for a few moments, then demanded, "Finn, what the fuck happened to you?"

Finn couldn't help flushing, but he grinned. "Something that's going to happen to you, too, if you want it. There's a St. Andrews cross upstairs on the third floor. Stephen set it up for us. I got to be the test subject, but it's really for you."

"For me?" Puck echoed.

Kurt touched Puck's. "If you want it."

"If I — for fuck's sake, Finn!" He struggled to sit up, but Finn wasn't letting him go any more than Kurt was, and it wasn't long before he stopped trying. "Are those  _lash_  marks?"

"Yeah, that part I couldn't do," Finn admitted. "But…" He paused, looking over Puck's shoulder at Kurt, and it was like Kurt could read his mind.

"Carl could do that for you," Kurt said softly. "We all could. All four of us could have you, while you're suspended on that cross. Each of us could use a different instrument."

Finn almost wanted to smile, the way Puck's eyes went dark and overwhelmed, like somebody was offering him a million dollars. Then he thought about the way he'd felt, looking at his own stripes in the mirror.  _Maybe it does feel like that to him._

"You deserve it," Finn said. "Not because you've been bad. But because you're our good boy."

Puck let out a little whimper, and both of them immediately surrounded him with their arms and legs and bodies. They'd all been having enough sex that being together like that wasn't desperately arousing. It just felt so good to Finn to hold them both.

* * *

Adam was great, no question, and Sarah was more than a little curious about what he was going to do about that challenge to sell her on poetry. She'd been reading on her own since they'd spoken on the phone in January. The e.e. cummings guy was still a little weird for her. Mostly when she read things, she wanted them to make sense, and a lot of poetry just didn't make  _sense._  But Adam made sense, and she was willing to listen to him.

Right now, she needed a little break from the unrelenting stupid love she saw on his face, and everybody else's face, every time she turned around. Even Tatenui, who usually was so mellow and calm, seemed to be stuck in some kind of weird angsty place. It was driving her nuts. Her whole family had been dumped together in this place and given a firm stirring. This wasn't home, by any means, no matter how happy they were to be together. They needed to settle out.

She'd explored enough of the main building to feel like she was ready to check out the rest of the grounds. But it wasn't going to be possible to get around Phillip and his security. It was time to take the direct route. Sarah marched up to Tess's office and knocked.

"Come in," she heard. Sarah opened the door to find Tess standing at the window, looking out over the grounds. She crossed her arms.

"So what's outside?"

Tess's lip quirked. "Snow, I imagine, if my eyes do not deceive me."

"What  _else?"_  Sarah asked, not quite rolling her own eyes.

"You'd like to visit the grounds," Tess guessed. "Or possibly the stables? Or the greenhouses."

"Any of those. Yeah. Is that allowed, or am I going to get in trouble for going AWOL or something?"

Tess approached her calmly, her smile growing. "I promise you, you'll find enough of your own trouble if you look for it. But I am happy to have someone escort you around the grounds."

"No thanks. Can't I just go myself?"

"Have you been down to visit with Phillip in his office?" It wasn't a direct answer to the question, but Sarah ignored that.

"No? What does he do down there, anyway?"

Tess nodded firmly, and held out a hand. "Let's go find out. And then, I promise, I will answer your question about going outside."

The hallways were busy, but everybody seemed to have an idea about where they were going. None of them paid any attention to Tess or Sarah. She realized, after passing several people who completely ignored them, precisely what Tess was doing.

"You're a silent fox too," she accused.

Tess chuckled. "That's a lovely description, Sarah. My compliments, from one sneaky watcher to another."

"But you're so..." Sarah had to think about what she saw, because Tess was actually small and unassuming, when she looked at her objectively. "So  _big,"_  she settled on.

Tess nodded, clearly thinking, given the little crease between her eyes, Sarah thought.

"Jesse — pardon me,  _Carl_ ; he didn't use his first name, when I met him, so I forget sometimes.  _Carl_  would likely say that you're observing my Colonel Highness."

Sarah laughed out loud. "That's  _awesome,"_  she declared. "I definitely don't have one of those. I mostly stick with being invisible. But I guess here it didn't seem... enough, somehow?"

"Ah. The invisible ones hear and see and learn the most. And thank you. We're going down to have a quick peek at Phillip's domain, because he's really better at explaining the risks here than I am. This is my home, my choice of business in my retirement, and I know I can be blind to them sometimes. And Phillip has better maps than I do, too."

"Maps are cool," Sarah said grudgingly. "Okay, sure."

The room Tess pushed open was cluttered, in a totally good way, with all kinds of equipment and electronics and things that made noises, but the man in the center took up the vast majority of the room's real estate.  _God,_  Sarah thought, staring up at him.  _If Finn's a dog, this guy's got to be a dinosaur. Or possibly Clifford._

"Phillip," Tess greeted the big man. "Sarah would like to explore the grounds."

"I see," Phillip chuckled. "So, my sneaky one, I assume you've exhausted all of our dusty corners? I'm surprised you haven't been in here yet."

Sarah shrugged, trying not to be intimidated. He did seem nice enough. "There's lots of stuff on the main floor, but my brothers are being super dorky about each other. I seriously need a change of scenery before I go insane."

She watched the adults around her, but to her surprise no one laughed.

"Sarah, you're welcome to the ground floor down here as well," Tess told her. "The only two things truly out of bounds are locked and chained, and monitored by security."

"What's out of bounds?"

"No swimming without someone else present. I'd avoid the exercise rooms, if I were you. But you'd wanted to go outside?"

She shrugged. "Somewhere. I'm not trying to be obnoxious, so if you just tell me where I  _can_  go, I'll stick to those places."

Tess shook her head. "No one thinks that. People need their freedom, hmm? And thank you again."

"Well. There are three things to know," Philip told Sarah, holding up three fingers, each one of which had to be equal to, like, three of her own. "One: a map." The big man produced a big sheet of paper out of a drawer. "If it were summer, I'd hand you a compass and let you run, girl. But it's winter, which brings us to Two. Winter's serious business out here on the plains. There's places you can go outside, sure, without anyone objecting, or needing an escort. And there's places that you need a buddy, or security detail with you, in the winter. Dangerous out there in the winter, people die." Sarah's eyes widened as Phillip looked straight at her, clearly not kidding.

"Um. Okay." She surveyed the map. "Where  _can_  I go, then?"

The man drew a diagonal line through through the building. "Nothing forward of this line, outside - those are areas the the country club members access, and even though they're boring, we don't want them bothering you — their morals regarding children are a little too high -"

" _Phillip_."

Sarah glanced nervously at Tess, but she didn't look that upset. "Well, anyone under sixteen without a parent is going to raise eyebrows, front of that line. And back of the line…" Phillips big finger drew a sort of boundary line. "Best to avoid the loading dock and garages, but they're not forbidden. The stables, and the garden within these walls," he said. "Anywhere else outside without someone with you, and you're looking at a family conference, and those aren't fun, believe me."

"What's three?"

"That was three," he said, frowning, but Tess coughed. Sarah fixed her attention on the woman, who'd seemed to fade into the background again.

"I'll add a fourth," Tess said, meeting Sarah's eyes. They were a calm grey, but they were serious. "If you're outside, please dress for it. I'll take you straight up to the private access to the gardens, and we'll find you a jacket and whatnot there. Yes-" she said holding up a hand as Sarah took a breath. "I know you have your own, but if you want to sneak right on out - just take a jacket and the rest, please."

Sarah blinked. "You mean - I can just go?"

Phillip pointed one of those huge fingers at the video monitors. "You're not invisible to those. It's fine, Sarah. So long as you're keeping to those two areas, it's no different than us keeping an eye on you while you poke around on the first floor. Or  _either_  of your brothers, who tend to wander when they ought to be sleeping. And we appreciate that  _you_  sleep," he said with a chuckle.

Sarah decided not to point out that she mostly was awake during sleeping hours, even if she was in her room, but she understood what he was getting at. "I don't get in trouble," she informed him.

"Even Tess gets in trouble. Be safe, small one."

The concept of  _Tess in trouble_  stuck with her as she made her way back to the surface. She kept sneaking little peeks at Tess while they walked, trying to picture her being cowed by  _anybody._ Tess didn't do more than grin at her, though, until they got to the door leading outside.

"Right here," Tess said casually, gesturing at the rack of winter gear hanging beside the door. "You're small, but it won't hurt for a jacket to be big, right? Just hang it back up here when you come in, or ask security to bring it back down."

The jacket she lifted down was camouflage print, and Sarah spotted the name on it: _Riordan._  She blinked, startled, and looked up at Tess, who was holding the jacket like someone would for royalty. Sarah slid into the jacket. It was lined with fleece, and very heavy.

"Check the pockets before you run, please."

Sarah explored the big pockets first, which were bulging, and pulled out a hat, scarf, and mittens, all in a dusky, muddy green.

"Good," Tess said decidedly. "I'm not your mother; I won't make you put those on, but I will suggest that it's nasty cold out there, and I'd rather not have you in the onsite clinic treating you for frostbite, hmm? Someone did mention I was a nurse in my former career, I'm sure?"

"Warm is totally good." She pulled the mittens on, clapping them together, and grinned at Tess. "You're pretty smart."

Tess raised her chin a fraction. "Thank you for that assessment. Now, I don't need to be chasing you around, asking you to return these, do I?"

"No ma'am." Sarah wasn't sure what a salute looked like, so she didn't attempt one, but she kind of waved in a sharp little motion as she scampered out the door, and Tess smothered a smile.

It really was cold, colder than Sarah guessed it was in Ohio at the moment. She stayed on the plowed sidewalk, keeping her shoes dry, but once she arrived at the biggest outbuilding, the snow was flattened enough to allow her to tread on it. It didn't look like cars had done that, and when Sarah saw a pile of steaming poop on the ground, she knew what it had to have been. She wrinkled her nose.  _Horses._

She'd ridden on a horse once in her life, the summer she'd turned five, when Noah had been away at soccer camp. Her babysitter had brought her to his fancy house, where he'd helped her sit on the saddle and led the enormous animal around the yard. It had scared the crap out of her. Frances had liked riding a lot more than she had, but Sarah never been motivated to seek out horses again after that. But — she guessed the stable would be warm, and there might be interesting things to see that didn't have to do with animals. She crept inside, sticking to the walls, and made her way around to the back from which she could survey the stable.

She thought she was being pretty quiet, but the woman saw Sarah before Sarah saw her. She was untangling a pile of leather straps and metal, not unlike the equipment her brothers kept in their room. Behind her was a stall, from which extended a big grey head. When Sarah stopped, the horse tossed its head, making a whickering noise.

"Hello there," the woman said quietly. "He's a little spooky, and we'd both be more comfortable if you came out where we could see you."

Sarah emerged from behind the stall door. "I'm not used to people noticing me."

"He noticed you before I did. He was abused. Beaten, starved, and caged, used as a bucking horse. He doesn't trust very easily. Come here, though. Let him see you - come here, right up beside me."

She waited, as Sarah tentatively approached. Whoever she was, she didn't look surprised to see Sarah. Maybe Tess had told her she was coming?

"You can pick my pocket, there," the woman suggested casually. "It's full of baby carrots."

Sarah hesitantly dipped a hand in, palming a few carrots before withdrawing. How she was going to feed them to the enormous animal, she had no idea. Was the woman seriously suggesting she put her hand close to his  _mouth?_  Didn't he have  _teeth?_

The woman winked at her. "You'd make a good pickpocket."

Sarah frowned. "Is that a compliment or what?"

"You bet it is. Now, hold that handful out - way far in front of you, all right? Hand flat. Yes, like that. I'm going to rein him in, but it'll be slow. Don't let that arm get tired, now." She nodded at Sarah as she opened the stall door and led the horse out. "Now, with Liberace here, watch how this works."

Sarah observed, fascinated. The woman chirped and clucked at him, coaxing him as she fastened a long line to his halter. Pretty soon, he was circling around the two of them on the lead, safe within the paddock. Every turn that the grey took -  _Liberace,_  she repeated to herself - the woman shortened the rein by an arm length, until he was circling so closely to the two of them that Sarah could have reached out and touched him if she wanted to. Not that she was  _going_  to. Liberace's grey coat was starting to darken with sweat, as he came closer, and though he still obeyed the woman, his eye rolled back to watch Sarah as long as possible.

"That's right, boy," the woman murmured. "You know what you have to do to get those sweets."

The woman slowed the horse, with soft, verbal commands. Sarah was standing right next to her, and still she almost had to strain to hear her. Liberace's ears pricked and swiveled towards them. Finally, the woman shortened the rein. Liberace was alternately glancing and sidling toward Sarah, his nostrils snuffling. Sarah swallowed.

"Just keep your palm flat," the woman said calmly. "He might press down a little, but he doesn't nip; he knows better. He likes those carrots too much to bother misbehaving."

Liberace snuffled into Sarah's palm, and she held still. His muzzle was warm and soft, softer than velvet or silk or custard or just about anything she'd ever felt before, and his breath warmed her hands.

"Step up to him, really slow. I've got his halter; it's all right. Look up at him now, and blow really gently onto the end of his nose, there."

Sarah did so. She could see the horse relax, and she felt the woman next to her relax as well.

"He likes me," she whispered.

"You can go ahead and put a hand up to his neck now. There you go. Good. Now, I'm the grounds and facilities manager - Lydia, if anyone's told you the names of the managers. And I know you're probably Sarah - am I right? Tess told us all about your little family visit this weekend."

"Yeah. Noah's sister. And Kurt's. And kind of Finn's, too?" She touched Liberace on his strong neck. That didn't seem scary anymore, but Lydia's next words made her tense up.

"Sarah, do you ride?"

She shook her head. "Once, when I was a kid. I have a friend who does, though. She's been trying to get me to come ride with her, but..." She made a face. "It's kind of a freaky thing, being on top of a big animal like that."

Lydia smiled gently at her, leaning in closer against Liberace, giving him a good scratch right behind his jaw. Sarah couldn't help grin at his contented sigh. It sounded so much like Finn's when Noah rubbed his feet. Before she thought about it, she'd reached out to join Lydia's hand, feeling the way she did it.

"I'll tell you what I think," Lydia said conspiratorially. "I think it's one of the most exciting, freeing experiences I can imagine. And I've leapt out of an airplane, so you know that I have some idea of what I'm talking about."

Sarah giggled. "I've never done that. But I've had two older brothers wrestle me. If  _they_  could squash me, I don't know if I really want a thousand-pound animal that close to me." She rolled her eyes. "Sometimes it sucks to be the youngest."

"Well." Lydia moved her hand to Sarah's shoulder, resting it there for a brief moment before moving away. Sarah glanced up at her, surprised, and flashed her a tentative smile. "It's clear what rests on your heart."

* * *

Adam ran into Sarah in the hall, smelling like horse and grinning like an idiot. He grinned back.

"I don't need to ask where you've been." He surveyed her shirt, covered with straw. "You didn't get thrown, did you?"

"No!" She looked somewhat offended. "Nothing throws me, especially not Liberace. I just needed to come in to warm up my hands."

Adam reached out, grasping her hands, and chafed them between his. She startled a little, but watched him warily for a few moments before she relaxed, sighing.

"How's that?" he asked. She nodded. "Good. If you're up for it, then, I'm going to make good on that bet I made you."

She was as quick as he'd anticipated. "The poetry thing."

He held up the books in his hand. "The poetry thing. You give me half an hour, I'll sell you on poetry, and I'll tell you why."

"But poetry is  _stupid,"_  she said, very clearly.

Adam fixed her with a stare that would have made Noah avert his eyes, but Sarah just stared back. "Excuse me?" he said. "Are you telling me that e.e. cummings poem I read you was  _stupid?"_

"Not every poem is stupid," she amended. "But anything you have to  _explain_  is totally pointless. Why not just say what you mean? And don't try to tell me it's like art, because art has all kinds of other things, color and shade and value and perspective and stuff, but poetry is just -  _words."_

"Don't tell me you don't listen to the lyrics when you listen to music," he countered. "I know you do."

"Your lyrics are  _fine._  There's nothing I can't understand. Plus, there's a tune. It's, like, the redeeming aspect of music. You don't have to have great lyrics because the music and the rhythm make it okay."

He felt somewhat indignant. "Are you saying my lyrics aren't  _okay_  on their own?"

"Ahem."

They both looked up, apparently equivalently startled, to find Tess standing beside them in the hallway. She raised an eyebrow at Adam. Implicit in the criticism was an inquiry as to why he was having a heated argument with an eleven-year old, no matter that it was simply about poetry.

Adam's mouth snapped shut, and a victorious look flitted across Sarah's face, at least until she realized that Adam's eyes were fixed on Tess.

"Poetry," Tess inquired mildly, and the unlikely pair nodded. "Would references perhaps be of any assistance?"

Adam frowned, but Sarah looked interested. "Sure."

"Then you may both come with me," Tess instructed serenely. There wasn't a word out of either of them, she strode away like she didn't expect one.

She led them down the long flight of stairs in severe silence, and into a dimly-lit library. Among the thousands of volumes on the shelves was what turned out to be a small collection of poetry, beautifully bound in matching leather. Tess laid a light hand on Sarah's shoulder, and Sarah glanced directly at her and smiled.

"I shall be in my office, just upstairs, if I'm needed," Tess said. "Unless you require a referee. And Adam? I expect a clean argument from you, if there's going to be one." Her tone offered a gentle rebuke, and he felt himself flush.

"We'll keep it civil," he assured her. "But thank you."

He started by giving her some Edna St. Vincent Millay to read, because he knew at least one of her objections was that she couldn't understand poetry. She wasn't going to appreciate Emily Dickinson until she had a little time to sit with some more concrete verse. She bore it with stoic patience, but he could tell she was just humoring him.

"Look," he said, feeling exasperated, "you're not paying attention. Don't you feel something?" He flipped through the text and stopped on a random page. "I mean — just close your eyes." With all the expression he could muster, he began:

_I, having loved ever since I was a child a few things, never having wavered_  
In these affections; never through shyness in the houses of the  
rich or in the presence of clergymen having denied these loves;  
Never when worked upon by cynics like chiropractors having  
grunted or clicked a vertebra to the discredit of those loves;  
Never when anxious to land a job having diminished them by a  
conniving smile; or when befuddled by drink  
Jeered at them through heartache or lazily fondled the fingers of  
their alert enemies; declare  
That I shall love you always.  
No matter what party is in power;  
No matter what temporarily expedient combination of allied  
interests wins the war;  
Shall love you always.

He looked at her stricken face, eyes still closed, and waited for her to open them again before asking, "Well?"

"It's — okay?" She rolled her eyes as he huffed. "Okay, fine, it's awesome, but… the awesome isn't the poetry. It's  _you_. You could read me the most recent version of the Facebook terms of agreement and it would be awesome."

Adam laughed, blushing. "That's really sweet."

"Fuck you," she muttered. "I'm not getting all boy-crazy over you. I'm just saying, when it's your voice, it makes a difference." Then she grinned. "Just think how awesome your music would be if your lyrics were  _good."_

"Oh,  _really?"_  Adam didn't even think. He reached across the table and dug into her ribs with one hand, just like he would have with Neil when they were kids. Sarah shrieked and scrambled back, protecting her sides with both arms. He drew back when he realized what he was doing and how it might be misconstrued, but she was grinning at him triumphantly. As he watched, she reached up with one finger and drew an invisible line in the air.

"Sarah, one," she said. "Adam, zero. Now read me more poetry before I get totally bored."

She didn't look bored. In fact, she listened with apparent fascination as he selected piece after piece, doing his best to convey the meaning behind each line. He'd worked his way through Vachel Lindsay and was about to start on Sara Teasdale when Kurt and Noah appeared at the door of the library. Kurt cocked his head at Adam in surprise, but Noah just smiled.

"You wanna read  _me_  a story?" he said, leering at him.

Adam leaned back in his chair, grinning back. "Oh, you want a bedtime story tonight, little boy?"

Sarah sniffed. "It's not a story. It's  _poetry."_

"We, uh…" Kurt bit his lip. "If you're in the middle of things, we don't have to bother you."

She gestured at her brothers, closing the cover on the Teasdale volume. "Go on. I've monopolized him enough today. I can go find Tatenui and get him to play Uno with me. I'll see you guys at dinner — I think James has something major planned."

"What was that all about?" Kurt asked in an undertone as they flanked Adam in the hallway, heading for the stairs.

"I gave Sarah a challenge. To be honest, I'm not sure who won." He smiled at his boys. "Looks like you might have some nefarious plans for me?"

"Finn asked me… us… to invite you up to the third floor. Carl's there already. He's set something up for Noah, and he…" He laughed. "I think he wanted to make sure you weren't going to be upset by it."

_That doesn't sound reassuring._  "Do you think I'll be upset by it?"

"No," Kurt said, still smiling. "I think you're going to love it."

Finn and Carl were already in the room when they reached the third floor, rigging a St. Andrew's cross. Adam had seen similar contraptions before, at Threshold and private clubs in LA, but he'd never had the opportunity to try one out. He watched as Carl fastened a second set of rings to the connection points already installed on the tall wooden frame. He spoke quietly to Finn, who was listening intently.

Adam turned to Noah, taking in his peaceful, self-satisfied glow. "This is something you've wanted."

"Well, you know. On my way back from Santa Fe, I saw it downstairs, in the public space, and I…" He shrugged, nodding. "Yeah. Couldn't stop thinking about it."

"That's okay, honey. You're allowed to want things." Adam tucked Noah in close to his side and felt his contented sigh. "Anything you want, I'd listen to that. I think we all want to give you what you want."

"That's kind of the idea," Kurt said. He picked up one of the tools arrayed on the table, a leather paddle with fine, tight stitching. "We all do. Something from each of us, while he's suspended up there."

Adam felt the first ripple of response from Noah — not a noise, but an intensification of his focus, as though Kurt had already brought the paddle down on his ass. Finn looked sharply at him from across the room, then at Adam.

"That sounds fabulous," Adam said, his eyes on Finn. "You can definitely have that."

"Finn wanted Noah to wear our collar while he's up there," Kurt added.

Adam could hear the hesitation in his voice, and he smiled reassuringly at Kurt. "Of course. He'll need one for stability."

Of course it wasn't just about stability, and Adam was pretty sure Kurt knew it, but he wasn't going to go into details, not with Noah standing there. He was going to have to have a conversation with Finn and Kurt before he left Tessera, but right now, this was about giving Noah something he wanted. He kissed Noah's forehead and gave him a little push toward the cross, and then moved back to stand against the wall, out of the way, while Kurt surveyed the tools.

Carl said something quietly to Noah, then watched while Finn buckled suspension cuffs on Noah's wrists. Then he left them and walked over to stand beside Adam, leaning against the wall beside him.

"I'm the least involved here," Carl told him in an undertone, "and I'll be using the tool with the least impact, so I thought I would go last." He indicated the table, where Kurt was running his fingers through the tails of a suede flogger. "What's your tool of choice?"

"Paddle, usually. Wooden, leather, Lexan, although I wouldn't use that here." Adam smirked. "Occasionally I've had to resort to a cane."

"Mmmmm. I've heard stories about Puck. That doesn't surprise me." Carl smiled back, wide and sincere. It was so different from the expressions Adam had seen on his face up until now that he found himself responding with an equally wide smile. "This is Finn's scene, and I'm here to support him. But I've never been in a scene with Kurt present before. You think he'll be okay with this, sharing Puck this way?"

"He's never had trouble sharing him before." Adam observed Kurt's body language: alert, but not tense. "I think he's worried about how I'm going to react."

Carl nodded. "And how are you going to react?"

"I have no idea," he said. "I've never done this before."

"Which part?"

"Any of this. I've seen a St. Andrews cross used, but I've never flogged Noah publicly."

"Adam," Carl said dismissively, "this isn't  _public._  Consider me to be part of the furniture, if that helps."

Adam paused before daring to run his eyes over Carl's compact frame. "Mighty fine furniture," he murmured.

Carl appeared to ignore this. "I'm here to support Finn's progress, so that's my primary goal, but I think it only makes sense to play with your lovers' lovers, even if you're not sexual with them. It provides a sense of intimacy that only benefits the group as a whole." He gestured encouragingly. "Go ahead."

Adam still wasn't sure what to do with Finn in the room. Carl had convinced him  _he_  was no threat, and he reminded Adam enough of the Doms that frequented the clubs he sometimes attended with Jacob that flirting with him came naturally. But Finn… Finn was big enough and handsome enough that he triggered all of Adam's bad memories of being the awkward, chubby theater geek in high school, tormented by the popular jocks. He wasn't going to let his guard down around Finn.

"Which tool are you going to use?" he asked Carl.

Carl didn't reply. When Adam turned from the table to look at him, he saw him uncoiling a weighty length of rope. No, not rope — a whip. Adam glanced up in alarm.

"You're going to use  _that_  on him?"

"He's quite safe, believe me, at least when I'm the one wielding it. I guarantee you'll see more marks on his back from that tipped flogger than from the cracker on this whip." Carl leaned back, and then, very deliberately, ran his eyes over Adam's body, just as Adam had done to him. "Consider yourself invited for a private session yourself sometime."

Adam considered, instead, bolting out of the room. Whatever he thought Carl might have been doing, being friendly and accommodating, had vanished in the glitter of his eyes and the lazy curl of that  _motherfucking whip._  This wasn't just him playing with his two very sweet boys. This was serious shit. A weapon like that could blind a person, could flay him raw — could, in fact, kill him. And today, the subject in question was  _Noah._

He swallowed his panic, knowing it was obvious, but not sure he had a choice. "I — think I'll stick with the paddle."

"Of course," Carl agreed, with a little bow of his head. And then he appeared to relent somewhat, dropping his imposing formal posturing down to a tolerable level. Adam found he could breathe more easily. "There's no shame in relying on the familiar, especially in an unfamiliar situation. My first priority is keeping Finn safe; yours is keeping Noah safe. In the same way Noah may,  _you_  may always tell any of us to slow down or stop, using yellow and red, on his behalf."

Adam wondered if he should feel affronted that Carl was the one setting boundaries with him, as though Carl were Adam's own Top, but he nodded, somewhat calmed. "That's a good point."

Noah did look stunning, the muscles in his bare back contracting as he tested the limits of the carabiners which hooked his wrists and arms to the St. Andrew's cross. Finn showed him the mirror, conveniently located so as not to require him to turn his head at all to see who was working on him, and leaned in to whisper something into his ear. Noah visibly shivered.

When Adam looked away, he saw Kurt was holding two different floggers in his hands, weighing each one and swapping them from hand to hand. Pitching his voice to carry across to Finn, Adam said, "Why don't you try both of them on him and see which one is better?"

"Oh —" Kurt paused to look at Finn, who was politely not reacting, then back to Adam. "I… do you mean I should ask him which one he likes?"

"No, honey. The less you talk to him, and the more you talk  _about_  him, where he can hear you, the more quickly he'll drop into subspace."

Kurt blinked, wrinkling his brow. "That seems a little demeaning to me."

Adam didn't look at Finn, but took Kurt's hand and drew him over to stand behind the cross. Adam placed his hand on Noah's arm. Noah squirmed a bit, but didn't attempt to turn his head, keeping his eyes on the mirror as Finn had no doubt instructed him. He was definitely hard, Adam noted.

"Does he look upset?" he asked Kurt.

Kurt was watching Noah's calm, blissful face in the mirror. "No," he admitted.

Adam nodded. "I don't think he is. I'm sure he's just waiting for one of us to begin."

Noah let out his breath, sagging under the support of the cuffs, and made a small noise that made Adam's cock jump. He stroked Noah's back lovingly, letting it linger at the base of his spine. Then he backed away again, leaving Kurt to stand there behind Noah, holding the two floggers. He was certain Kurt wouldn't let Noah wait long — and he was almost as certain that Kurt would decide on the stingier of the two tools he held.

The sound of Kurt whispering gentle words to Noah while he peppered his back with slaps from both tools was blissfully sweet. Adam couldn't help sighing in appreciation, listening to him. He could see Kurt in the mirrored wall in the back, but he was distracted by the look on Finn's face. It wasn't particularly possessive or grim, but Adam could see an underlying hurt, one that he'd thus far hidden from Adam. He couldn't help wonder what had caused Finn to look like that. He had to admit he was surprised to discover Finn had layers; he'd seemed like a pretty simple soul to him.

_But that might explain why Kurt and Noah love him,_  he thought, and gave Finn one more speculating glance — just as Finn looked at him.

"You want to go next?" Finn asked, his voice even.

"Whatever you want,"Adam replied, trying to make a grand gesture, but he was pretty sure it just looked like he was trying too hard. He covered with a smile, but Finn didn't return it. He held up the tawse.

"That'd be good. I haven't used this tool on somebody else before."

Adam caught the subtlety in that.  _On somebody else. Meaning you've had it used on you._ Not for the first time, he felt his own inexperience looming before him, a barrier that only he could see. It was funny how Carl didn't make him feel that way, but this seventeen-year-old kid sure as hell did.

"I'm sure Noah will love it."

Finn nodded, already preoccupied with Kurt, watching him winding down. Adam knew he didn't have the arm strength to go very long with that flogger — he had indeed picked the one with the firmer strips of leather — but Noah was already squirming under the impact. Kurt took one look at Finn and stepped back, breathing hard from more than just effort.

"All right." Finn gestured, staying where he was. "Adam?"

Noah made a little moaning noise at the sound of Adam's name. Being there, beside Noah, looking at his red, raw back was a lot less like being on stage than he'd expected. Carl was right: it wasn't public. This was intimate. He took a deep breath.

"I'm sure he'll remember his safe word," he said to Carl, kind of like a question. Carl nodded.

"We'll all be listening, whatever he says." He smiled. "Puck's never been so safe. He has all three of his Tops, right here."

There was another noise, more fragmented, from Noah. Carl's smile widened.

"I love that sound," he said, like he was confiding in Adam. He put a hand on Adam's shoulder, directing him toward the St. Andrew's cross. "That's the sound of a very good boy, being so good for his Top. Waiting, ready to take anything you give him. Don't you feel so lucky, hearing that sound from your boy?"

"Yeah," Adam agreed, his voice coming out hoarse. "God. Yeah." He looked at Noah again, feeling more confident, and rested the paddle against Noah's behind. "He's such a good boy."

"Ohh," Noah groaned, even before the paddle hit. It was like the actual impact was happening five seconds before the leather impacted his skin. Adam could feel the shock of it run up his arm and into his core. He had to check himself to be sure he wasn't actually hitting Noah too hard. He heard Kurt's breathing behind him, ragged and quick, echoing Noah's.

"Are you okay?" he said quietly to Kurt. Kurt nodded in response, his eyes on Noah.

"It's intense," Kurt said. "But I… I'm good."

Adam didn't even bother to try to shut out his surroundings while he finished paddling Noah. It might have been possible to pretend this was a performance, that it was no different from being on stage, or doing a public scene at the club. But this  _didn't_  feel public, not here. Not the way Kurt was breathing, or the noises Noah was making, or the way Carl was nodding at him approvingly — like  _he_  had anything to do with what was happening.  _Fuck._

He placed one more swat in the center of Noah's red behind, then took two steps back. Adam realized he was sweating hard enough that his hair was sticking to his forehead; he brushed the locks out of his eyes impatiently.

"All right," he said, to himself as much as to Finn.

But Finn wasn't the one stepping forward. It was Carl, clearing the space in the center of the room with a cautionary sweep of his hand. They all moved back to stand along the walls, well out of range, while Carl let the supple length of leather coil along the floor.

"Puck," Carl said, his voice gentle. "I want you to listen to me. You're going to hear some very loud noises. It's not the sound of the whip hitting your skin that you'll hear. It's the sound of the cracker, breaking the sound barrier. I'm going to take very good care of your skin, all right? You don't have to worry, but if you  _are_  worried, you can tell me to stop, and Finn will take his turn. Using your safe word with me won't mean the end of the scene. Do you understand?"

Noah didn't answer right away, but Adam saw him turn his head a little, nodding, and finally say, "Yeah, I get it."

That made Adam relax a little. Noah might be falling into subspace, but he wasn't losing his clarity of desire. He wasn't going to call Carl  _sir._

Carl seemed satisfied with this answer. He shook the whip, once, twice, and then did the move that looked like it was straight out of Indiana Jones. There was a  _crack._  Kurt flinched; Adam managed to restrain the impulse to do the same. There was no mark on Noah's back, but Adam watched his left shoulder twitch. Carl paused a moment, then did it again. This time the right shoulder twitched.

"Finn," Carl said, and Finn came forward immediately. "Stand next to me, right here, so he can look at your face in the mirror."

Finn didn't take his eyes off of Noah after that. When Noah squirmed away from the impact of the lash, which still wasn't leaving marks, Finn spoke to him gently, calling his attention back to the moment. He called him  _Noah,_  which Adam hadn't known Finn did, but it didn't seem to surprise either Noah or Kurt, so he guessed it wasn't the first time he'd done it. Carl just stood there, his arm making relentless, countless identical arcs through the air, the  _snap_  of his whip invisible to the eye.

Noah had gone still by the time Carl stopped. He spoke quietly to Finn, who nodded and carried the tawse with him as he moved closer. He ran his hand over Noah's back, and Noah shuddered, but didn't speak.

Adam felt a warm touch. He looked down to see Kurt's hand in his. Kurt didn't look upset, but he wasn't speaking either. Adam thought they all felt it, the solemnity of the moment, being here and giving Noah what he needed.

Finn only made four strokes with the tawse before Noah began to cry. Adam couldn't be sure the reason, not from across the room, but Finn didn't seem to be striking him very hard.

"You know how to get me to stop," Finn said calmly, which made Noah cry harder. Adam clenched Kurt's hand harder, but Kurt looked serene, even blissful, watching Finn work.

"There's no reason not to say it, if you're done," Carl told him. "We're here to give you what you want. If you don't want it, all you have to do is tell us to stop, and that'll be the end. Whatever's happening here is just for you."

"God," Noah moaned. He sounded frantic. "M — red, red, I can't, please —"

Finn dropped the tawse on the ground and moved toward Noah at exactly the same time Kurt did. They surrounded him, reaching to unhook the suspension cuffs, and recaptured his shaking arms to fold them into his chest. Adam waited, though he had to bite his tongue on the impulse to call out to him. This was Finn's show, and Noah was wearing Kurt and Finn's collar. Adam wasn't going to interfere. Noah didn't need him, not at the moment.

But Noah looked so conflicted, so agitated, that Carl ended up approaching the two boys trying to comfort him. "Take him back to your room," he said. "Don't let him out of your sight. He's having a crisis; there's nothing to indicate why, but he's not going to be able to tell you what it's about until he's out of subspace. Make sure he's warm and hydrated." He turned to Adam. "They're not supposed to be alone on the third floor. Would you go with them?"

Adam nodded. Kurt still looked worried, but Carl leaned in and kissed Finn and smiled reassuringly before ushering them out the door and closing it behind them. Adam put a hand on Noah's shoulder as Kurt and Finn half-carried him to the staircase and back downstairs to their room.

When they got to the room, Adam turned down the hallway to the door to his room, but Kurt reached out and clasped his hand.

"Stay?" he asked.

Adam looked up at Finn, and when Finn nodded, he nodded back.

"Yes, thank you," he said, trying not to sound stiff.

"Whatever's going on with him," said Finn, unlocking their door, "we probably all need to hear it."

Noah collapsed on the bed before Kurt could even pull the blankets back. He shied away from all of them, curling into himself, until Adam let out a determined breath.

"Noah," he said, trying not to feel self-conscious about using that Voice in front of Finn. Noah quailed. "You're going to take five more seconds to calm down, and then you're going to tell us what frightened you."

"Can't," Noah gasped, shaking his head, "can't, it's too — I can't."

"Sweetheart." Kurt was soothing, not caustic, but Adam could tell he was frustrated. "You can tell us anything."

Finn sat back a little ways, one hand on Noah's leg, but otherwise letting Kurt do the holding. "Can I guess? Like, yes or no questions?"

Noah's agitation quieted somewhat. After a moment, he nodded, his face still hidden.

"Is it about what we were doing upstairs?"

Noah shook his head immediately. Kurt stroked his back, all along his spine, letting his hand rest on his neck, his lower back.

"Is it about what Carl said up there?"

A longer hesitation this time, and he nodded again.

"About… asking for what you want?" Finn guessed.

"You didn't want it to be just for you," Adam said quietly. Kurt looked at him, startled, but Noah nodded yet again, so Adam went on. "You hate feeling selfish, even when you do want something. You never do anything just for yourself."

"I do," Noah protested, despair in his voice. "I'm  _totally_  selfish."

"Not when you're like this. When you feel safe and loved, all you want to do is give. You _can't_  have it be about what you want."

Noah choked on his response, trying to disappear into Kurt's arms. Kurt sighed, kissing him.

"I think I knew he was feeling that way," he said. "I just didn't know what to do about it. How do I keep him feeling bad about getting what he needs?"

"Make him work for it," Adam replied.

Kurt caught his breath, looking at Finn with hope alight in his eyes. "Do you think — could it really be that simple?"

Finn still looked perplexed. "What?"

"Noah," Kurt asked, tugging him back so he could look at him directly. Noah rubbed his red eyes and did his best to pay attention. "You don't want to move into my house?"

The conflict was so obvious, Adam could almost trace its progress on Noah's face. Kurt nodded, taking his silence for an answer.

"What if I told you we needed you? All the things you can do, cooking for us, being there for Sarah, and —the baby, when she arrives. And other things, too. You're such a good boy, you'd be able to give us exactly what we need."

"Kurt," Finn murmured, looking uncomfortable, but Noah was nodding, hopefully, almost frantically.

"I want that," he said. "I want — to be like that. For everybody. But your dad, he'd never be okay with that. He'd freak out if I told him —"

He stopped, his mouth closing abruptly. But Kurt's face was clear now.

"If you told him," Kurt said, stroking his head, "that you wanted to serve us. All the time."

Noah closed his eyes, taking a shuddering breath, almost like a wince. "God."

"Oh." Finn looked stunned, but it only lasted for a moment. He scooted down the bed, bringing his face level with Noah's. "That's what you want? For real?"

"I know I can't," he said, still shaking, his eyes remaining closed, "I know I  _can't_  fucking have that, not — not in real life. Not if I want to be the kind of boyfriend you guys deserve. Not if I'm going to be her Papa."

"Noah, you're wrong," Kurt said firmly. "We want you to have exactly what you need. Not because you're selfish, but because when you get what you need, you're — your best self. The kind of man your daughter's going to need, to be a good Papa."

Noah started crying again, but this time he opened his eyes, looking at Finn with that same wild pleading look.

"No fucking way," he spat. "You don't want that. You don't want a guy who just —"

"Submits?" Kurt asked, smiling. Finn chuckled. "What kind of a guy do you  _think_ we want, sweetheart?"

Noah was at a loss, staring at Finn. He just shook his head again.

"Do you think you'd be a burden?" Adam asked, moving closer to touch him, too. Now they were all three surrounding him. "That being like that would make you somehow less valuable to us?"

"Well, I would, wouldn't I?" Noah sounded a little calmer now, like he was asking the question instead of assuming the answer. "If I wasn't relying on myself anymore, that'd be a bigger deal for you guys."

"Maybe in some ways," Kurt countered, "but you'd be giving back in other ways. And — Noah, I think it might give you what you need. Really. That would only be good for all of us, for you to have that."

Noah was silent for a moment. "And how do you think you could explain it to your  _dad?"_

"I could do that," Adam said. All three of them turned to look at him. He nodded. "It would be okay. I think he would understand it differently, coming from me. And I imagine Carl would be helpful here, since he has a slave."

They were all quiet. Finn looked a little stricken, but Kurt nodded slowly.

"A slave," he said. "That's… that's really what we're talking about here, isn't it?"

"That wouldn't totally piss you off?" Finn asked, sounding fascinated. "To be a slave?  _Our_  slave?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. I think — it would just be fucking weird, but —" Noah's face was flushed. "No. It wouldn't piss me off."

"Like Angela," Kurt added.

Noah thought about it. "Yeah, but I could never be that awesome. She's totally in charge of everything."

"But that's the way you are in the kitchen. And with the kids, when we babysit." Adam was startled at Kurt's comment, about Noah with Brad's children, but the more he thought about it, the more he was sure Kurt must be right. Kurt looked earnest and entirely certain of himself now. "I think the reason she's so strong and in charge is because she's getting what she needs. Maybe you could have that too?"

Noah was clearly overwhelmed, but he wasn't hiding from contact with them anymore, and when Finn touched his collar, his eyes closed and he sighed. Adam reached out and took his hand.

"I don't even know what that would  _look_  like," Noah said, his voice hushed. "What about school? And at the garage?"

"It doesn't have to be 24-7, honey. Most people don't do it everywhere or all the time. You only wear your collar at home in the bedroom, right?" Adam waited until Noah nodded. "It could be like that. When you get home, you have someone put your collar on you, or something like a collar, to act as a trigger that now, things are different, that you belong to them. That you're there to serve them."

"It's okay for you to want that," Kurt added. He nudged Finn, who paused in the middle of his focus on Noah to listen to Kurt's words.

"Uh… yeah," Finn agreed, his voice a little shaky. "It's totally okay." He gathered Noah closer to him, like he might need something to hold on to. "You really… you think that would… like, solve everything? That would be enough to get you to — to move in with Kurt and your sister and — everybody?"

_Everybody._  Adam suppressed his irritation and squeezed Noah's hand again.  _Everybody except me._

"I know, it sounds stupid," Noah sighed, but Finn cut him off with a reproachful eye-roll.

"Not stupid. That's totally not what I meant at all. I'm saying, if that's really what you want, it seems like a pretty small thing to ask for. And — dude, it would be for  _us."_

"Sort of." Noah shook his head, closing his eyes. "I don't even know anymore."

"It's okay. We can talk more about it when we get home." Kurt's face was so hopeful and determined that Adam wished he could say something, caution him against putting too strong of an expectation that this actually  _would_  solve everything. He leaned in and kissed Noah, snuggling into Finn and Noah's embrace. Within a few minutes, Noah's breathing had evened out, and he was sleeping peacefully.

"He won't sleep long," Adam said. "Isn't this nap number two today?"

"Good preparation for tonight." Kurt extricated himself from underneath Noah, then moved in close to Adam to hug him tightly.

"You okay?" Adam murmured.

Kurt nodded, looking at Finn, still wrapped up in Noah. "I think so. That was… intense. What we did, upstairs, yes, but I'm talking about this revelation."

"I think as long as he knows he's not getting in anybody's way by being in your house, it wouldn't be anything but beneficial." Adam shrugged. "You're really all that surprised?"

"I guess not," said Finn. "On the surface, it sounds bizarre, but… I think after knowing Angela, I can see how it would… I don't know, suit him?"

"Angela. She's Carl's slave?"

"For now. Historically he trains slaves and then they find another employer who can give them what they need, but so far she's refused to leave." Finn nodded at Adam. "That, what we did upstairs? That was okay?"

Adam refused to bristle. "It was fine." He added, after a moment, "Thanks for including me."

"Hey." Finn's voice was soft. "I'm not trying to be an asshole here. You're really important to both of these guys, and all of this, what we're doing, it means something."

Kurt was waiting quietly, listening to his body language. Adam took a deep breath. "Yeah. I know. I'm not trying to be an asshole either."

"It's just…" Finn went silent. He gave Noah a little nudge, rolling him onto his side and pulling the blanket over him before coming over to stand by Adam and Kurt. He hesitated, then put a hand on Adam's shoulder. "We're talking about, like, tattoos and things? I'm… well, I'm not a tattoo kind of guy, if you know what I mean. Doing this with the five of us, this would be… special." He put his other hand on Kurt's shoulder. "And whatever else happens between you guys, I felt like I should make that clear."

Adam could see the way Kurt's eyes were going liquid and soft, but he also was pretty sure Finn wasn't just saying those things for Kurt's benefit. He smiled, feeling some of the tension ebb. "You'd better watch out. You're within hugging range."

"I think I can deal with that," Finn said. It was more a one-armed hug, with Kurt in the middle, but it was a good start, and a hell of a lot better than animosity or jealousy. Adam let Finn hold on as long as he was willing.

"Thanks," Finn said quietly, close to his ear. "For being willing to share him."

Adam laughed. "Are you talking about Kurt or Noah? Either way, I'm pretty sure you got there first."

"Noah. And I kind of lost whatever claim I had when I beat the crap out of him. He forgave me, and I still don't know how I got that lucky, and…" Finn struggled to keep talking. "I want you to know, I'm  _never_  going to hurt him like that again."

He didn't quite know what to say. It was like Finn was trying to apologize to him, and it felt so completely unnecessary and so good at the same time that Adam just shook his head. "I — I know you won't."

Kurt was standing there, watching them solemnly, wiping away silent tears. Then he hugged Finn hard, let go, and did the same to Adam. Finn stroked Kurt's hair while Adam held him.

"I love you," Kurt whispered.

"Love you too, baby," Finn whispered back, kissing his cheek, and this time, it didn't feel bad to Adam at all.


	5. Saturday, Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At Valentine's Day dinner, Carole and Burt have a miscommunication, which Puck helps resolve. The boys go dancing, and Adam is recognized. Eventually, they go to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Burt angst, Adam's steampunk hat, and allusions to a fivesome. 
> 
> -amy

Carl appreciated being at Tessera for so many reasons, but when he was alone, Tess’s library always provided him with the most interesting diversions.  Inevitably he tended toward the historical accounts of BDSM practice in various communities around the world, particularly the instances of single-tail whips.

He looked up from his book to see Carole standing in the door.  She looked altogether far too unsettled, which made him put his book down and stand to welcome her.  “Carole -- please come in.”

She smiled vaguely, making her way to the couch, and sat down before he could say anything else.

“I need some advice,” she said.

Carl took in her body language, the tight set of her mouth, her anxious eyes.  “Of course.  What can I —“

“What has Finn told you about my history?”

He slowly lowered his hands to his lap.  “Well… very little, but I’ve made some guesses.  Do you want to fill in the gaps for me?”

She grimaced.  “I don’t know.  Is this going to be weird, talking to your boyfriend’s mother?”

“It doesn’t have to be weird,” he assured her.  “There’s really nothing you can say to me that would be shocking, and I’m sure as hell not going to judge you for any of it.”

“Okay.  I think I thought I was going to be able to avoid bringing this up with Burt, but some of the things he’s said to me, they’ve been impossible to ignore.  He’s not a judgmental person by nature, but even with Tess’s help, he’s having a hard time understanding the things Kurt and Finn and Puck are doing.”

Carl nodded patiently.  “But you’re  _not_  having a hard time with that?”

“No.”  She smiled.  “No.  There was a woman who helped me, when I was pregnant with Finn.  She showed me… the value of a disciplinary relationship.  She supported me in my decision to keep him instead of giving him up for adoption.  She said… she would have stayed.  To raise Finn with me, together.”  Her smile had slipped away, leaving a patina of regret.  “And I was young, and a little more white and midwestern than I’d like to admit, and I didn’t know what to do with that.  So I went home.”

He attempted to choose his words carefully.  “Do you wonder what might have happened, if you’d stayed?”

“It’s not that.  I’m not missing that kind of relationship.  I love what Burt and I have created, and I don’t want to give it up.”

“But you think he might react badly, if he found out about this relationship in your past?”

“He could,” she sighed.  “I know I have to tell him.  I’m afraid he’s going to feel isolated, because he doesn’t understand this part of his son’s experience, or Finn’s.  Driving a wedge between us isn’t going to help us all deal with the complications of a situation like ours.”

Carl’s lip quirked, and Carole laughed again.  He really did like her.  He folded his hands on the table in front of himself.  “It sounds like you don’t really need any advice.  It’s just going to be hard to take that kind of risk.”

Her eyes closed.  “It’s the right thing to do, though.”

“You told Finn about her,” he pointed out.  “I don’t think I could tell my own daughter nearly so easily.”

They flew open in surprise.  “You have a daughter?”  

Carl could have kicked himself.  He was going to need a diversion.  “We’re not close…  I think I might be in a position to request some similar advice from you, though.”

“Oh, really?  What is it?”

“Has Burt talked to you about… Kurt’s idea?”  He raised an eyebrow.  “The tattoos?”

“Oh.”  Her face cleared.  “Yes.  He told me about that.  I think it’s a lovely idea.”

“You do?”

“Kurt said small, subtle, and easily covered with clothing.  I can’t imagine anything more reasonable than that.  As commemorative gestures go, I think tattoos are perfect.  And, honestly, Carl?”  She smiled widely.  “Whatever happens between these boys, I’m certain what they’ve had so far will be worth remembering.”

He laughed aloud.  “I’m not sure if I’m relieved or not.  I suspect they’re going to talk me into getting one too.”

“Yes, well.  There’s no reason you should be excluded, as far as I can tell.”

As often happened when Carl looked at his situation from the outside, he found himself wondering what the hell he’d been thinking, getting involved with a boy this young.  But this moment with Carole, and the expression on her face, had him gazing at her in stunned disbelief.

“You really support this?” he found himself asking.  

She shrugged matter-of-factly.  “Carl, he’s seventeen.  Realistically, it’s going to take him some time to meet the love of his life.  He isn’t about to settle down and get married.  Or even if he thinks he is, I don’t think it will be that simple.  Whatever he has in the meantime, I’m of the opinion that it should be intense and amazing — and, without question, you fit those criteria for Finn.  I’ve never seen him like this about anyone before.”

Carl managed maintain enough of his dignity to suppress anything that looked like a stupid lovesick smile.  “I’m pretty sure he and Kurt —“

“It’s not the same,” she interrupted with a knowing look.  “There’s your first love… and then there’s your first Top.”

He had to concede that.  “Thank you,” he said.  “Really, it’s a relief, to know my presence in his life isn’t going to create a rift within his family.”

She nodded.  “I told him, he’s a young man now.  He has his own capacity to make decisions, even if I don’t agree with them.”

There was a quiet knock at the door.  They both looked up to see Stephen waiting in the doorway.  “Dinner in half an hour, Carl, Carole.”

“Thanks,” he said, rising from his chair at the same time as Carole stood up.  “I’m certain we’ll be expected to dress for James’ Valentine’s Day dinner.  I’d better make sure my suit still fits.  I’m sorry I couldn’t offer more constructive advice.”

“I think I just needed a sympathetic ear,” Carole said.  “And you’re right.  I might as well get it out there and start dealing with it now, rather than wait until any more time has passed.”  She put on a brave smile.  “No time like the present?”

* * *

Burt was already pulling his sweater over his head when she arrived.  She gave him an appreciative smile and a kiss, running a hand over the blue cable pattern on his shoulder.

“I knew that yarn would match your eyes,” she said.

He touched his own chest.  “Well, it fits great.  Nobody’d be able to tell I haven’t lost a single pound of my New Year’s resolution.”

She shook her head.  “You know I don’t need you to change the way you look.”

“I’m just listening to my doctor.  I didn’t promise I’d listen all that well.”  He glanced across the room to the red dress, dangling on its hanger from the back of the closet door.  “I can’t wait to see you in that.”

“Can I admit I was surprised at your fashion sense?”  She cocked her head at him, waiting, but he didn’t even hesitate.  

“It was all Kurt.  You’d better believe every stylish thing about my wardrobe is his fault.  If he got that part of his personality from anywhere, it definitely wasn’t from my set of genes or my nurturing.”  He was grinning unapologetically.  “And I gotta say, I don’t always agree with what he thinks is cool, but I absolutely gave my thumbs up to that dress.”

“I’m just grateful to him,” she assured him.  “I wanted a red dress for Valentine’s Day, and this is the perfect opportunity to wear it.”

“You don’t mind that we’re not eating alone?”

She shook her head.  “We’ll have plenty of time to be alone.  Lunch tomorrow, for one.  This can be about -- everyone.”

He swallowed, moving in closer.  “Everyone.  The whole family?”

“They’re working on it,” she agreed.  “Slowly.  Which is as it should be.”

That obviously wasn’t quite what he wanted to hear, but he didn’t disagree with her.  “I’m grateful that Sarah moving in hasn’t been hard for Kurt.  He seems to love having her at the house.”

She brushed off his shoulder and straightened the sweater across his chest.  “I think he loves it when people are there.”  

“I do, too,” Burt said softly.

She wasn’t going to get a better opportunity to catch him feeling soft and understanding.  “Can I... there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh, yeah?”  He moved his arms to rest on her hips.  “Right now?”

“I think it might be a good idea.   I’ve been wanting to bring it up for some time, but I couldn’t find the right moment.  You know... I love you so much.”

His eyes softened.  “Carole.”

“I mean it, Burt.  I haven’t had anything like this in a long, long time.  We haven’t known each other for very many months, but I don’t want you to think that I’m not serious about you.”

Whatever he was about to say in response was interrupted by Sarah at the door, grinning from ear to ear.  The expression was mirrored exactly by Puck, standing behind her in the hallway.  As much as she was frustrated by the timing, Carole had to grin back.  

“How’d it go?” she asked.

“Like shit off of a shovel,” Puck informed her, his eyes sparkling.  “Who knew my little sister could write lyrics like that?”

Carole’s smile grew.  “Well, after that one about the angel that you composed for Frances at Christmas, I’m about ready to believe the two of you can do anything.”

Burt looked mystified, watching them disappear down the hall.   “What was that all about?”

“They’re writing a song together,” she said.  “For Adam.”

“No kidding.” He shook his head, marveling.  “What a team.  You’ve heard that one that Puck wrote for Finn and Kurt, haven’t you?  And Kurt wrote this whole piano piece for Adam... I have no idea where Kurt got his musical talent.  It sure as hell wasn’t from me.”

“I think I’m the least musical one in my whole family.”  The moment had passed, but it was okay.  Carole wasn’t going to worry about it.  There would be another opportunity to tell Burt the truth.  “Let me get that dress on, and we can head down to dinner.”

* * *

Although the dining room wasn’t brightly lit, it looked appropriately romantic for a Valentine’s Day weekend dinner.   The huge wrought-iron sconces mounted on the walls held candles, burning steadily, and Burt blinked when he looked at the chandeliers, which also held candles.  He wondered how they kept the wax from dripping into people’s dinners.  But the effect was a pleasing one.  He could feel Carol soften and relax in the shelter of his arm, and he sensed more than saw the glance she gave him.  It left him a little buzzy and heated, but he moved her firmly into the room to let the twitterpated boys follow.  It was easy enough to ignore Kurt’s squeal, followed by Adam’s quiet murmur.

Burt was seated next to Carole, close up by Tess and James, which was nice, and at the foot of the table Stephen and Alec presided, presumably to keep an eye on things.  Carl was seated near the foot of the table as well, near to Lydia, who had Sarah next to her. Burt could see that it would be easy for the boys to talk to one another without having to raise their voices.

There were two glasses at each plate, and a squint at the labels on the bottles that were sunk in silver buckets of ice showed him that the boys had something nonalcoholic before them, though James and Stephen both opened bottles of wine.

Tess seemed to value quiet, which Burt appreciated here.   He glanced at the place setting as he sat down, seeing Carol trail a finger along the curvy edge of the plate.  It looked fragile, and he glanced down the table with some trepidation at the herd of buffalo he was overseeing, hoping there wouldn’t be any incidents.

He watched his son sip from the glass of ice water, then set it down hurriedly as Tess rose at the head of the table.

“Welcome,” Tess said, and in the moment that she spoke, silence blanketed the room.  She smiled, her glance lingering on each and every person as she spoke.  “I am honored and pleased to be able to host such a wonderful family with my own for Valentine’s Day.  This holiday has come to honor romantic love, and it’s been lovely to watch all of you epitomize those values: looking for the love in one another, withholding judgement, and not throwing stones and making unfortunate martyrs of one another.   Every one of you is unique and beloved.  All of you have very different needs, and thoughts, and desires - and it is heartening to see the effort towards concordance.  My love to all of you, and my thanks for exemplifying something so dear to me: the truth of love.”

James raised his glass, and there was a silent, unanimous toast as they all drank.  Burt was sure his wasn’t the only throat clouded by emotion.   _My family’s a lot bigger than it used to be._  

He took a seat next to Kurt, who held tight to Finn’s hand.  Puck was next to Adam on the other side, beside Carole.  

“You look beautiful, mom,” Finn told her across the table, and she and Kurt both beamed approval at him.  

“I thought that the lines of that dress were very Lanvin,” Kurt commented.  “Flattering without being ostentatious.”

“It was a great find, honey,” she agreed.  “There’s something about a red dress that makes a woman feel glamorous, no matter who she is.”  

“And some women are glamorous at any hour of the day,” Carl called from the other end of the table, raising his wineglass.  “And may I say you are beautiful in burgundy, Tess.”

Tess frowned at him, but Burt saw the smile hiding underneath.  “Thank you, my boy,” she replied.  

The conversation was mild, for which Burt was grateful.  He already felt on edge from the almost-talk he’d had with Carole in their room before coming downstairs.  He thought for sure she was going to bring up moving in together.  It would have suited him fine for her to be the one to mention it.  As far as he was concerned, it didn’t matter one good goddamn that they’d only been dating for two months, but now, in this less than private environment, having those thoughts was making him squirm a little.  It didn’t help that Carole looked like  _that_ in the red dress.

“First course,” Kurt read from the menu propped in front of them, “roasted red pepper soup with caramelized onion and black pepper crème fraiche.  Dad, you might want to pass on that and go straight for the salad course.”

“Hey,” he protested, but Puck was already frowning at Kurt.

“James uses pasture-raised cream.  That’s some good stuff.  Nothing wrong with a little fat as long as it’s mixed with protein.”

“My dad doesn’t need any more artery-hardening anything, thank you very much.”  Kurt skimmed down the menu with his eyes.  “And no gruyere potatoes dauphinoise for you.  But the roasted cauliflower, that’s fine.”

“Thank you,” Burt said, not bothering to hide his sour tone.  Kurt ignored it.  

“Between the filet and the shrimp, I’m not sure which one’s the lesser of two evils.”

“Free-range steak trumps farmed seafood any day,” Puck said.  “I’d go with the meat.”

“Thank you,” he said again, a little too loudly, holding out both hands.  The boys both fell silent, staring at him.  He tried to calm down.  “It’s my holiday, and I’ll choose my own menu, all right?”

In the wake of his pronouncement, Kurt turned toward Finn and Puck toward Adam, talking under their breath.  Carole took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly, which made him feel a little more serene.  

“They’re just trying to help,” she said.

“I know.  Both of them mean well.  But, seriously, I’m not going to let my meal consist of --” He squinted at the menu.  “-- avocado and blood orange with local chevre, candied walnuts and passion fruit vinaigrette.  I mean, what’s chevre anyway?”

“Goat cheese,” Adam put in helpfully.  Burt didn’t glare at him.

“Of course.  Yeah.  I need meat and potatoes in my dinner.”

“You can have whatever you want,” Carole told him.  The comment just made him feel like a selfish little kid, but he tried to take it in the spirit in which it was offered.  He tried to smile at her, raising his glass of too-sweet wine.

“I want to enjoy our first Valentine’s Day together,” he said.   _And next year I want to do it in our own place._   The words wouldn’t quite come out.  Burt chewed on his lip.  He still wasn’t at all sure what kind of reception he’d get if he brought it up, but after their conversation upstairs, he felt far more optimistic.

“Tomorrow morning.”  She touched the back of his hand with her fingers.  “You’re going to get your wish.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, smiling.  “Wow. I kind of can’t believe I get to have that.”

“You deserve it.  All of it.  You have to know that.”

“So do you.”

Suddenly Carole looked uncomfortable.  “I don’t need all of it, Burt.”  She set her wine down.  “I just want it, so much.”

“That’s enough, right?  Wanting it?”  He shrugged.  “I don’t think you need to worry about the difference between needing and wanting.  You just get to have it, whatever it is.”

She nodded, her face resolute.  “What if... what if I want a clean slate between us?  What if I want us to always share the hard stuff, even when it feels terrifying?”

He wrinkled his brow.  “Well... yeah, of course.  That’s great.”  He paused.  “What are we talking about here?”

“We’ve both done things.  In our past.”  Carole was looking past him at the wall, avoiding his eyes.  “I can’t say I regret any of them, but... I’ve had a lifetime of experiences.  It’s going to take time to share them all.”

“Sure.”  He could feel the unease between them, and he reached for her hand.  She took it gratefully.  “I want to hear whatever you have to say.”

“Yeah?”  Her gaze was so hopeful, he wasn’t going to deny her anything.

“Yeah.  Definitely.”

The salad didn’t look his style, but Burt gamely took a few bites.  The flavors were more complex than he was used to, but they were delicious, and he ate a couple more before he spoke again.

“I just wanted you to know, whatever it is, it’s not too soon.  And I’m right here, holding on, no matter what.  Okay?”

She was nodding.  “Yeah.”

He gave her an encouraging smile.  “I honestly think we can do anything together.”  Go on.  You can say it.  

Carole took a deep breath and let it out.  “Being here... it’s reminding me of things from... long ago.  From when I was... doing this.”

He nodded, listening.  “Doing this,” he repeated blankly.

She gestured at the hall, but Burt didn’t get it until she said, “What Finn and Carl do.”

Burt could feel the smile vanish from his face.  He didn’t think he could have hidden his reaction if he’d tried.  He wished he could apologize for the emotions that were inevitably showing: bewilderment, panic.  Revulsion.  But he couldn’t.

“Carole,” he said, but she was already pushing away from the table, walking quickly toward the exit.  The conversation dwindled as everyone watched her leave.   The focus turned towards the head of the table, and Stephen exchanged a nod with Carl, and slipped out of the room to go after Carol.

“Jeez, Dad,” Kurt said, and he sounded amused.  “What’d you say?”

The anger washed over him before he could stop it.  “You’re out of line, young man,” he snapped.

Kurt was clearly taken aback, but it was Puck who responded.  “Hey, he was just joking.”

“Kurt.   Come here, young man.”  Tess beckoned with a  stern finger and a frown.  When he didn’t respond right away, she repeated herself, her tone more stern, and this time with a warning glance at Noah.  Adam and Finn were both silent, watching.

“Tess,”  Kurt tried to protest, but his voice faded under her direct gaze.  He watched her expression change again, into something far more forbidding.  This time she snapped her fingers, and Kurt rose, swallowing hard, to go to her.   Tess motioned to someone down the table, and Kurt heard Carl’s voice ask a neutral question of Alec, and the conversations started up again around the table.

Tess reached out and took Kurt’s wrist, turning her back slightly to Burt, so that Kurt’s face was clearly visible to his father.  Her grip was hard, not hard enough to bruise, but definitely enough that Kurt was paying attention immediately.

“Do you understand the inappropriateness of your behavior?  Might I add, at a formal table, for clarification.”  Her grey eyes looked up at Kurt.   She’d remained seated, but her presence was still formidable.

“But Dad and me -- all the time --”  He felt the feebleness of his protest, but ignored at it, fixing his gaze on the beautiful woman.

“Is commonplace behavior appropriate, at a formal supper, Kurt?   With more individuals present than you and your immediate family? And at an event where you are well aware that you are already pushing at boundaries?”

Kurt’s eyes dropped immediately.  “I understand.  Yes, ma’am.”  He managed not to squirm under the censure.

“Then might we let this go with a quiet word?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Very good, Kurt.  We can step out for a private word at any point,” she suggested warningly.   “Now, will you give me a kiss and a smile?”

He bit his lip at first, but then the smile came through, and he leaned to kiss her cheek, murmuring a quiet thank you. She released him with a smile of her own, and turned to make a quiet inquiry of James.

Burt observed the entire interchange with mounting discomfort.  Watching Tess handle his son that way... it wasn’t like he objected to her doing it, exactly, but in this moment, it felt like the worst kind of reminder of exactly the kind of a parent he was.  

_I failed him, when he was growing up,_ Burt thought, swallowing bile as he rose to his feet.   _He didn’t get what he needed from me, so he had to go looking for it from his boyfriends._

He couldn’t sit there and watch Tess do the things he clearly couldn’t do for Kurt.  Closing his mouth on the angry words he wasn’t going to say to Tess, he headed for the opposite exit.  No one called after him.

His thoughts were a chaotic jumble.  _Kurt’s never called me sir.  I never asked him for that, and he never offered, and -- and that was fine_.  But it obviously wasn’t.  

_I had no idea he wanted that -- that he’d even considered wanting that.  How could I not know that about my own son?_   His stomach burned with shame.  

And Carole.  He couldn’t conceive of it.  Carole, being punished at the hands of another man?  How could he accept that, when he couldn’t even handle his own son?  How could he be enough of a man for her if that was what she really needed?  He blinked away the frustrating tears as he mounted the stairs to the second floor.  

“Wait!” The stairwell rang with the word, enough that it was hard to tell who had said it.  It didn’t matter, anyway.

“Go back to dinner,” he called back.  “I’m not ready to talk right now.”

Puck’s mohawk appeared as he rounded the corner halfway up the staircase, gazing up at Burt with desperation.  “You don’t have to say anything.”

“Puck,” he sighed, but Puck was going on, regardless.

“You’re freaking out.  I get it; I freaked out too, the first time I saw this stuff in action.  I was like, no way would I let anybody do that to me.”

“I wouldn’t,” Burt said, his voice too loud in the enclosed space.  “Trust me, this isn’t about me.  I admit it, I don’t understand this -- what you do.  What everybody here does.  I can be open-minded and respectful of people’s choices, but you can’t ask me to stand back and watch Kurt get hit.  He’s my son.  He’s been running away from that his whole life.”   _And Carole --_  he choked on the thought. 

“It’s not  _about_  that,” Puck said emphatically.  “Being hit, that’s just one way to get to a place where you can listen, where you can hear.  The cuffs, the rope, all the tools, they’re all the same.  It’s not about  _any_  of them.”

“I’m sorry,” Burt said, shaking his head and backing away.  He had to ignore the hurt look on Puck’s face.  He couldn’t offer comfort right now.  “I love you, Puck, you know I do, you and your sister both.  But I just can’t tolerate the idea of you, punishing my son.”

Puck’s brows lowered, and he blinked at Burt.  Then he laughed.  

Burt fumed.  “This isn’t a laughing matter!”

“No, it really is,” Puck said.  “If you think Kurt would take that kind of crap from me.”

“He’s... what do you mean?”  Burt struggled to make sense of what Puck was saying.  “I don’t understand.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Puck shook his head, taking a step closer and putting a well-muscled hand on Burt’s shoulder.  “Kurt’s in charge of me.  He’s been in charge of me since the first day he patched me up in the men’s room, after Finn kicked the crap out of me.  Well.  The first time Finn did that.”  Puck laughed again, shaking his head.  “God, I guess it does sound kind of fucked up...”

In the midst of all the confusion, what immediately sprang to Burt’s mind wasn’t an image.  It was the sound of an impact, a sound he’d heard more than once in his own house, coming from Kurt’s room, accompanied by other muffled sounds.  The assumptions that accompanied that sound, at Puck’s startling words, suddenly shifted radically.  Burt found himself swaying under Puck’s steadying hand.

“You’re saying  _Kurt...?”_   

“Yeah,” Puck said, sounding apologetic.  “I’m the sub.  I’m all of theirs.  Finn’s, Adam’s.  And Kurt’s.”  He sought Burt’s face for understanding.  “And it’s good.  It’s so fucking good, I... I can’t even tell you.  The way they love me, it’s the best thing ever.  I need that.”

“But I saw Kurt’s back,” he said helplessly, then paused on the memory of the marks he’d seen that morning.  Puck nodded. 

“Well, yeah.  Adam.  Adam did that for him.  But it was just like Tess said, okay?  Full consent.  And, seriously, Kurt’d be just as likely to do that for Adam, too.”

It was almost too much to conceive, this entirely new idea of his fragile, delicate son, who’d loved tea parties growing up and cried every time at Bambi, wielding the kind of implement that could leave marks like that. He couldn’t even close his eyes on it, because the ideas were there, right behind his eyelids.  

“God,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry.  I’m really sorry, that this sucks for you so much.”  Puck’s face actually looked pained, like he was hurting just as much as Burt was.  Burt shook his head, trying to explain.

“I have to admit I feel like an asshole because that makes any kind of a difference to me, that Kurt is... the one doing that.  But I think it does.”

“What, that Kurt’s in charge of me?”  His brow furrowed. “But you know he gets it from Finn, and Adam, though?  Kurt needs this as much as I do.  It’s part of us.  We chose it, and it’s... it’s awesome.”

_Awesome._   The effect of being here at Tessera on Kurt was hard to deny.  If Burt could tolerate Kurt doing the hitting better than he could tolerate him being hit, was that hypocritical?  Maybe he could live with being a hypocrite.  But it was obviously more than just that.

“It’s Carole,” he said, making the words come out.  “I can’t -- I don’t want -- but tonight, she said she was, that she used to -- ”

Puck’s face cleared.  “Oh.  She told you about the girl?”

“The -- girl?”  Burt felt like he was doing a lot of repetition, but even saying it again didn’t make it make sense.  

“The woman,” Puck amended.  “Sorry.  Finn still freaks out about it, but I think he’s starting to get used to the idea of his mom’s history.  But... dude.”  He shook his head.  “You don’t have anything else to worry about.  She’s not with her anymore.  She picked _you._   I’m totally sure she did _that_ with full consent, too.”

“I’m sure,” he agreed, feeling dazed.   _The woman?_

Puck gave Burt one more searching look, then grabbed him in a tight hug.  Burt didn’t bother to struggle; he really did need the support, even if it was from his seventeen-year-old foster son.  He just hugged him back and hung on.

“You, uh.”  Puck hesitated, then added in a rush, “You don’t think I’m a total loser?  For needing that?  Because it sounds like you don’t much like the idea of Kurt... taking it.”

Burt tried not to flinch at the idea of Kurt  _taking it,_  but he wasn’t going to let Puck walk away thinking he was ashamed of him, for any reason.  “No,” he said firmly.  “I know you’re not a loser, Puck.”

Puck still looked uncertain, but he nodded.  “Adam’s holding on to Kurt.  He wanted to come after you, but I came instead.  He wants to apologize to you.”

“I think I need to go find Carole and apologize, first.”  He continued up the stairs.  “Can you let Kurt know I’m not mad, and I’ll be back to dinner as soon as I find Carole?”

Burt took off up the stairs, feeling more sure that this was the right thing to do, even if he wasn’t sure what he could say.   _Why didn’t you tell me before?_  It was obvious why she hadn’t.  _This won’t change anything between us._   How could this not change things, now that she knew how _he_ felt about it?

The door to their room was closed, and he hesitated in front of it for just a moment before knocking.  

“Carole?” he called.  “Can I come in?”

He wasn’t sure if she’d heard him at first, or even if she was there at all.  Then he saw the knob turn, and the door opened.  She hadn’t tried to hide the tears, and they just about broke his heart.

“I’m so sorry,” he said before she could say anything.  “That was completely unfair.  You were trying to tell me something, and I just -- reacted.”

She nodded, her mouth tight-lipped.  As he approached the doorway, she backed up, letting him in, but avoiding contact, her arms wrapped around herself.  Burt gave her space.  When she didn’t seem to have a response, he pressed on.

“You know, when Kurt and Finn started dating, I thought I couldn’t have gotten luckier.  My son, with the quarterback of the football team?  And then Puck... well, it got complicated pretty quickly, as you know, but I felt like they were both kids I could understand.  They were kind of like me.  Ordinary.”  He shook his head.  “Only that was pretty stupid, to think that what I could see on the outside was the way they were on the inside.”

“I thought I was lucky, too,” Carole said quietly.  “Kurt’s just about the sweetest, most thoughtful boy I’ve ever met.  And Noah -- he and Finn have been friends for so long.  They have years of history.  I don’t think the things they do together change that in any way.”

“No.  Of course not.”  He took a slow, measured breath.  “I’m sorry if I’m screwing this up, Carole.  I’m trying to tell you all the things I’m thinking and feeling and I don’t even know what they are.  But this weekend’s been really good.  It’s been hard, and complicated, and -- dammit, that’s exactly what it’s been all along.” 

“Yeah,” she agreed.  She peeked at him.  “That doesn’t scare you away?”

“Not one bit.”  That, at least, was easy to say.  “If anything, I feel like having you with me, having us together, makes it easier to deal with.  I don’t want to do it without you.  I will, if you make me, but -- I don’t want to.”

She nodded.  “We’ve been good together.”

He moved toward her, watching her reaction, and when she accepted his offered hand, he let out a big relieved breath.  “Yeah.  We really have.  And I don’t see any reason why we can’t keep being good together.  Do you still want that?”

“Do you?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said immediately.  “Yes.  I can’t promise I won’t freak out sometimes, but none of that means I don’t want it.  It’s just a reflex.  I still respect you, and love you.  God, so much.”  He was too far away from her, and eliminated the distance between them, taking her in his arms.  He could smell her, feel her pulse.  “Can I tell you something?”

He felt her tense.  “Okay?”

“I was getting ready to ask you and Finn to move in with me.”

She laughed in surprise.  “Really?  I’m sure Finn’s not ready for that.”

“But you?  What are you ready for?”

They both listened to the silence for a long moment.  When Carole stood back to wipe her eyes and look at him, she still wasn’t smiling.

“I can’t have this be only my decision,” she said.  “But... I’m so ready.  I want that.  I want us to be a family, and I want you there with me to help make it happen.”

He nodded, restraining his own smile.  “That sounds fantastic.  And I might want it tomorrow, but I’m willing to wait.  I might get a little pushy with Finn about it, but that’s only because I think he’s ready to hear it.  If he’s going to be... in these complicated relationships, he’s got an obligation to try to give them what they need.”

Her expression was sober.  “Do you understand what that is?”

“I think I’m beginning to.  What Tess explained, and what -- what Puck told me.”  He touched her arm.  “It sounds like you’ve got a better awareness than me, though.  Maybe you can help me understand.”

“I’m not looking for that from you, Burt,” she said.

He laughed.  “Good!  Because I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t know the first thing about what to do.”

“If you wanted that, it would be one thing, but it’s not something you can make somebody want.  Either you want it or you don’t.  It’s like being gay.”

Burt raised both eyebrows.  “Well, actually, you can like both.  Isn’t that right?”

He watched her cheeks go red.  “I -- how did you --?”

“Puck asked if you told me about the girl.  The woman.”  He waited, but she remained silent.  “Carole, do you know I don’t care what your sexual orientation is as long as you want me?”

“I think I did know that,” she murmured, closing her eyes.  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, but it would have meant bringing up the things we did, and it... I was scared, and ashamed.  Not ashamed of what we did, but of how I handled it.  I was young.”

She wasn’t objecting to his touch, but he didn’t get any closer.  “I would be happy to listen, if you wanted to tell me about it.  And I’d do my best not to be an asshole about it.”

Carole smiled.  “You’re not an asshole, Burt.  You’re just about the antithesis of an asshole.”

“I’m thinking that’s good,” he said, smiling back.  “But I’m feeling pretty assholeish right now, after the way I reacted to what you were telling me.  And Puck -- he set me straight about the way things really are between him and Kurt?  So I’m oblivious, as well as being an asshole.”

“You didn’t know?”  Now she looked astonished.  “What, because he’s strong and athletic and plays the tough guy?”

“I think when I thought about it, it seemed obvious that wasn’t who he was.  No, I think it was Kurt, the way I saw him, that was my blind spot.”  He took her hand.  “Would you come back downstairs with me?  As much as I would rather just call it a night and stay here with you, I have a bunch of other people to apologize to.”

Carole gave him a meaningful look, but she walked with him, and she didn’t let go of his hand.  “We’re not going to pretend this didn’t happen.”

“No,” he promised.  “I’m going to listen.  I obviously have a lot to learn.”

“All right.  Thank you.  I’m not expecting it to be easy, or simple, but I don’t think either of us are expecting that?”  

“I don’t need easy or simple,” said Burt.  “I do think I might need a second to breathe every now and then.”

“Breathing is good.”  She held open the door to the stairwell, a little smile playing over her lips.  “And, as much as I think Kurt meant well by offering nutritional advice, I think tonight you get to eat the chocolate panna cotta, vanilla anglaise, strawberry ice cream and chocolate ganache without anybody giving you grief.”

* * *

Adam didn’t quite realize the impact that getting ready to go dancing would have on his boys, but he had to admit a good portion of their excitement was his own buzzy energy.  Whatever was going to happen was going to be big and bright and beautiful — and he ran a very real risk of being recognized.  It was exactly what his publicity agent had said he  _didn’t_  want to have happen just before a national tour, especially after what had happened at the American Music Awards.  But Adam couldn’t think about that when he saw the light in Noah’s eyes as he paced Alec’s security room.

“Can’t we go up yet?” Noah pressed, and then winced as both Kurt and Adam laid a hand on each shoulder simultaneously.

“No.”  Alec’s voice rumbled in the bass register.  Adam exchanged a glance with Carl.  “You are going to stand here and watch the video feeds while the club fills up, so that you’re aware of the places in the room that aren’t well covered by the camera.  And then you’re going to remember that Tess was hesitant to approve you boys on the club floor - you’re all underage, and it ain’t teen night.  You want this, you zip it, kid.”

Noah glared at the older man, but he didn’t keep it up for long, not under the eye of  _four_  fucking Tops, one of whom was pretty close to swatting him in front of everybody else.  Noah sighed, scuffing his toes, then glanced up at Adam in surprise as he wrapped an arm around him from behind, pulling him against the comforting softness of his charcoal grey shirt.

“That’s enough, honey,” Adam said, the words quiet enough that he knew that only Noah heard them.  Noah sighed again, but subsided.

A pair of mismatched men who looked more like teenagers entered the security room, their attention focused on Alec, who looked them over.

“Good.  Adam, these are Danny and Joel.  They’ll be near you on the dance floor, shadowing you while you’re out there.  They’re regular members of my security team.  Show me where the exits on the floor are, Adam.” 

Adam didn’t hesitate.   He’d never been in the room, but he pointed them out on the video feed without hesitation.  Jacob had made him go through the routine more than once.  Alec nodded approval.

“Danny and Joel are going to be listening, as are the rest of the team, and the senior Club members.  We get wind of any recognition, you’ll need to go out the closest exit with one of the boys, while we keep an eye on the rest.  We’d probably let you go out in groups, so it’s not clear that Adam’s here with any one of you in particular.   If it comes to that, Danny’ll slide in with Adam, and the other one of you --” Alec grimaced at Puck and Kurt. “-- you make a fuss, so that Joel can take you out.  Now, if Adam ends up having to leave, the rest of you are welcome to stay.  If that happens, Carl, you keep an eye out to make sure these boys wind up near a security person, because otherwise they’ll be escorted out.”

Kurt was looking worried.  “If it’s that much trouble, and that dangerous, maybe —”

“Kurt.”  Kurt quieted at Alec’s calm voice.  “There won’t be any trouble that we haven’t seen before, okay?   Adam’s not the first big name that’s come through here, and totally not the first celebrity whose identity needs to be kept on the down low -- Tess,” he interrupted himself, as there was a whisper of silk in the doorway.  

Tess was still wearing the burgundy dress she’d had on at dinner, very fancy, fabric upon fabric creating multiple textures.  She smiled, and glided over to Kurt to tip his chin up with a light touch, kissing his cheek.

“Thank you, honey.  I’m here to make sure you behave.  Adam, I won’t insist, but I wanted to offer, it would relieve my mind a shade…?”  She turned to him, holding out something that was dark leather, and he took it curiously.  

It was a black leather hat, with silver gears that matched the ones on the necklace that Adam wore.  The hat, like the necklace, had keys pegged along the gears.   The brim came down over his face, shadowing it.  Puck grinned, reaching up to brush his fingers over it.  

Adam laughed, taking Tess’s hand and kissing her fingers gallantly after he swept the hat back off and under his arm.  “Very steampunk — and practical.  I appreciate the loan. I’ll have to think about finding something similar to wear on stage.”

Kurt smiled in appreciation, but Puck rolled his eyes, then yipped as Tess swatted him - and not with her hand, with her quirt.  She eyed him squarely when he looked up.

“If you’re removed from the floor, bucko, security will be handing you off straight to me, no matter where I am, and I’ll be bending you over in the nearest private space and ensuring that you don’t sit down for the rest of your stay.”  She tapped the end of his nose gently with the quirt.  “Regardless of who your Top might be.”  She nodded at Adam, who took the news calmly.  

“Now.  Off with you.  I hope most sincerely for the lot of you that I don’t see you until you check in with me, when you go up for the night.   Have fun, boys.  But be careful please.”   She paused to look at each of them quite carefully in turn, dropping a fond kiss here and there, and finally taking the hat from Adam’s hands and settling it on his dark head with a smile.

“There you are, handsome.  You’ll take good care of your brats, I’m sure.”

* * *

Kurt was in ecstasy on the dance floor, as the driving beat of the music sent him back in his mind to Masque, where he’d danced with Noah.   It was too loud for conversation, but it was perfect to just move, which was exactly what he wanted to do.  He danced with each one of them, singly and in pairs, then four and five of them at a time, moving in unison, their eyes idling over the crowd, all of which only served to increase the heat rising inside him.

After an hour and a half of that, the tone of the music changed, slowing to a throbbing pulse.  They saw a number of people trickle out, though they were all dancing close and sexy with one another at that point.   Kurt found himself curled into Adam’s chest, Adam holding his wrists in one hand behind his back, even as Puck tilted his head back to let Adam’s mouth find his neck.  Finn’s hand dragged in Puck’s mohawk as Carl ground against Finn’s backside, looking down at Puck’s ecstatic face with obvious appreciation.   It was easy to get lost in the music, to let it guide him into doing things he’d never have done in public in Lima. 

There was a sudden excited squeal.  He felt Adam stiffen beside him.  The squeal was quickly echoed by Danny, the smaller of the bodyguards, who had remained unobtrusively but comfortingly close throughout the night.  Danny went straight to Adam.

“Ohmygosh!  Darling, you have just got to come upstairs with me - I just saw Phillippe, he’ll be so glad to see you!”

Adam linked arms with Danny, letting out a fake laugh that sounded nothing like his own, and the two of them disappeared into the crowd.  Kurt felt suddenly small and scared and lost, until he turned and found the comforting bulk of Joel.

“Poor baby,” Joel said with sympathy.  “I know who squealed.  That asshole always pulls this crap.”

Kurt looked around himself uneasily.  “I know I’m supposed to make a fuss, but... I don’t know if I’m really up for playacting right now.”

“Don’t worry about it.  Come on with me, honey; there’ll be folks wanting to see you, too.”

Kurt thought of Tess, and felt a wave of relief.  “Okay,” he said, offering a weak smile.  He saw Puck, Carl and Finn watching him unobtrusively as he let Joel put a warm arm around his shoulders and whisk him out of the room.

“I’m sorry that had to happen,” the big man said as he deftly turned Kurt to head down the stairs.

“It’s okay,” Kurt reassured him.  “It was fantastic, but I was getting sort of tired, anyway.”  

They emerged into the security office, where Adam was waiting, looking annoyed.  Kurt went right into his arms, his relieved smile tempering Adam’s expression somewhat.  He snuggled Kurt close to him.  

“You look tired, honey,” Adam murmured into Kurt’s collar.  Kurt shivered at Adam’s breath on his skin, feeling the residual effects of the dance floor.

“Where’s Noah?” he asked.  “I think we should go upstairs.”

“We promised we’d wait for Mistress Tess,” Adam assured him quietly.  “Just look.”  He gestured to the video feed on the wall.  “Carl’s got them off in a private corner, and they’re fine.”

Joel caught Adam’s eye.  “Security’s going to check with Carl in a minute, sir, and if they’re comfortable, the two of you can go up to Tess’ office.  She’s been busy, couldn’t come down the way she’d planned.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Sure, Kurt,” Alec nodded.  “Thanks for doing as you were asked.”

Kurt laughed.  “I didn’t, actually.”

“You did just fine,” Joel reassured.  “We didn’t ask for an Academy Award-winning performance; you were obviously distressed, but you came right along with me.  And there’s someone down there convincing them that it wasn’t Adam they saw, too.”

Kurt nodded, looking sober.  “I guess I didn’t realize.  When I heard the girls say your name, and saw them start to move in, I could tell it wasn’t going to end well.”

Adam kissed Kurt’s hair. “Honey, it’s not a big deal.  It happens; that’s why I have Jacob, and why Tess was so sweet to arrange security here for me.   Don’t be upset.”

While Kurt spoke with Joel, Alec pulled Adam aside.  “My advice?  Don’t comfort him too much.  Scared is good.  Let him think about it.  And then once he’s thought about it and brings it up again, send him down to me for a chat.”

Adam raised an eyebrow.  “A chat?”

Alec laughed.  “Yeah.  Just a chat.  I’ll walk him through how security for a VIP works.” He shrugged.  “Couldn’t hurt.” 

Adam relaxed.  “That’s a good idea.  Jacob’s talked to all of the boys, but Kurt’s a lot more sensitive to what’s going on around him than Noah. I assume from Carl’s reactions he understands already?”

Alec nodded.  “He’s been around Tessera since we opened.  Yeah.  He’s fine.  Now, Tess wants me up there to hand off some information, so how about I walk the two of you up to her? I’ll only be a minute with her.”

Kurt was staring with fascination at the video feed.  Adam wasn’t quite sure if he was focused on watching Puck and Finn dancing together in the secluded corner, or if he were looking at other couples as well.  The idea was inspiring, and he moved to put his arms around Kurt from behind, pulling him in close.

“Ready to go upstairs?”

“Hmm?  Yes please,” Kurt said gratefully, and accepted a bottle of water from Joel as he turned.  “Thank you,” he told the security agent, earning a grin in return.

They climbed the stairs slowly, Alec casually discussing the club programming with Adam, until they arrived at Tess’ door, and Alec ushered them inside.  Tess looked at them, frowning a little with worry.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologized.  “I meant to come down if anything happened.  You’re both all right?”

“Perfectly fine,” Adam reassured easily.  “Security worked very smoothly, and Kurt tells me he was just about ready to come upstairs anyways.”

The older woman breathed a visible sigh of relief, though she continued to examine them carefully.

“It has been a pretty long day,” Kurt offered. “I think I should be going to bed soon.”

“Goodnight, darling.”  Tess kissed him on the cheek.  “Sleep well, and if you need anything, don’t hesitate to come find me.”

“Thank you.  I promise,” Kurt assured, and watched as she held a hand out to Adam, who took it gracefully, and allowed the same good wish to be bestowed upon himself as well.

“I really love her,” Kurt sighed, as they went up the stairs.

“Yes?”

“Oh, yes.   She’s so patient, and I don’t ever feel like I have to worry about what she’s thinking.”

“Hmm,” was all Adam said.  

Kurt looked tired, but when they reached the suite, Kurt seemed completely willing to let Adam undress him, slipping him into a robe so that they could go shower.  He appraised Adam’s body with obvious interest.  Adam had to grin.

“You weren’t really tired, were you?” he asked.

“Tired enough.”  He sighed, feeling Kurt’s hands running over his body more freely than they had on the dance floor.  “That sounds like it might be an invitation.”

“I wouldn’t say no,” Adam admitted.  “The others are having their fun.  But I was wondering you might be looking for something else tonight.”

“Something else?”  Kurt sounded more apprehensive than curious, but his pupils dilated, his breath picking up.  “What did you have in mind?”

“I could just as easily ask you the same thing, honey.  I saw you on the dance floor, surrounded by all your guys.  We gave Noah that.”  He ran a hand over Kurt’s bare arm, watching it flex in response.  “Maybe you’d like the same.”

Now the apprehension was definitely winning.  “I really don’t want to get up on the St. Andrew’s cross.”

“No, I didn’t quite mean it that way,” Adam reassured him.  “Noah needed that.  You need different things, and they don’t always involve bondage or discipline.  I think tonight, you just need the people you love around you.”  He leaned in, close enough to Kurt’s ear to be able to speak under his breath.  It wasn’t as though the hallway was teeming with other people, but he knew the effect of a good whisper.  Kurt was already quivering as he strained to listen.  “You need us really, really close.”

“Oh,” Kurt whimpered.  His hips made a slow roll, as though he were still on the dance floor.

“Yeah.  I bet we’d all want to give you just what you want, right in front of you, where you can watch, and we can watch you.”  Another whimper, more desperate this time.  Adam smiled.  Kurt was just as much of an exhibitionist than he was.  “How about we take this shower, and then we put our robes back on and go looking for the others?”

Kurt let Adam wash him and dry him off, keeping it sensual without elevating it to sexual.  Even so, they were both pretty turned on by the time they exited the bath.  Kurt put a hand on Adam’s chest, stopping him in the middle of the room. 

“You’re making an heroic effort to share me,” he said.  “I think I know that’s not really what you’d prefer.”

Adam put his own hand on Kurt’s chest, mirroring his gesture.  “That’s too simplistic a way to look at it, honey.  I  _want_  you to have what you want.  I  _want_  to make you happy.  And, you might recall, we do share a lover.”

Kurt shook his head, smiling.  “He’s more than okay with us having time alone.”

“I know.  But is that what you want right now?”  He waited out Kurt’s answer, not trying to pressure him to say anything in particular.

“I want you to be happy, too,” was what finally came out.  They grinned at each other, then laughed.  “Okay, I can tell that’s a cop-out.  You’re telling me you  _want_  me to be selfish?  To ask for the stuff I know is going to make you uncomfortable?”

“No, honey.”  Adam kissed him on his nose, making him wrinkle it and shy away.  “I’m just going to give you that stuff, because I’m arrogant enough to think I know what you want.”

“For god’s sake,” Kurt protested, giving Adam a feeble push.  

“You don’t believe in God.”

Kurt rolled his eyes.  “Well, for  _Gaga’s_ sake, then.”

Adam giggled harder.  He captured Kurt’s wrists and held them.  “How about for  _Adam’s_  sake.”  

“You really are arrogant, aren’t you?”  The adoring expression on his face belied the words.  It was enough to humble Adam where he stood, to have someone like Kurt looking at him like that.  Adam gathered his wrists close against his chest, holding Kurt tight, the way he liked it best.  Kurt let out a sigh of contentment, and Adam kissed him, again and again.

“How can I not be,” he whispered between kisses, “when you love me?”

* * *

Carl decided dancing was just another opportunity to feel old.  He’d exhausted his tolerance for rhythmic gyrating earlier in the evening, and now found himself content to stand on the sidelines and watch Finn and Puck together, using up their endless supplies of seventeen-year-old energy.     

Most of the people in the room were dancing, but it was a BDSM club, after all, and there was plenty more to see.  It was refreshing not to have to be the one providing the entertainment for a change.  He watched the little displays that went on as the club members filtered in and out of the room.   His particular favorite moment of the night had to be the expression on Finn’s face as he witnessed the group of ponies, “driven” six in hand by their Dom, prancing in their pony gear to U2’s “Who’s Gonna Ride.”  Puck had merely given the girls and boys a speculative glance and gone back to his dancing.  Carl wondered idly if Puck would remain a brat all his days, like Davis, or if he’d mature into a switch.  Regardless, that boy would be dangerous someday.

When the lights lowered and the music slowed, he knew it had to be getting close to 1:30, just a half hour away from the club’s closing time.  He moved on and off the dance floor over the last hour, but he was ready to call it a night.

Very soon after Adam and Kurt left the floor, he had produced two non-matching single cuffs out of his pocket, buckling them on to the boys, one on each of them.  The cuffs were single survivors of sets that had died over the years, but he’d found that it was a good novelty toy for new subs to play with.  They’d asked questions, and he’d teased the two of them with various ideas as they danced, whispering suggestions in Finn’s ear, and occasionally to Puck as well.  

That had kept them occupied for a good hour, touching the leather in fascination, hooking and unhooking the different clips that dangled from the rings.  He’d picked out two or three different types of clip, and put at least two clips on each cuff.  That had turned out to be a mistake, because that had inspired the boys to argue about the hardware, frowning at one another.  As time passed, Puck was clearly resisting Finn in more obvious ways.  Each time he challenged Finn, Carl’s boy’s eyes blazed up, but he didn’t take an opportunity to respond, and each time Puck glowed with satisfaction when Finn subsided.  

Only Puck wasn’t glowing now; he was glowering with defiance, and at least two couples looked their way and frowned.  Carl tried not to sigh, stepping forward from the conversation he’d been having with one of the senior Tops, excusing himself gracefully for the night.

“Finn.  Puck.  Time to head upstairs.”

“No,” Puck protested, but Carl got Finn moving towards the exit with a palm in the small of his back.  A firm look and a pointed question asking if he really wanted to have security step in to escort him out got Puck moving too.  _Good._

Burly Joel was waiting in the stairwell.  Carl nodded at him.  “Joel.  Everything okay with Adam and Kurt?”

“Oh, sure.  For the most part, it’s been a quiet night.  Tess spent some time counseling a couple, hasn’t been on the floor much.  She’s in her office now.  On your way up to the third floor?  Or can I just walk you over to the private wing?”

“On our way up.”

“Good, good.  The mistress wanted to say goodnight. I’ll walk you up, if that’s all right.”

“That’s fine, Joel.  Boys,” he said sharply.  That was definitely a sour look from Puck.  He could only hope that Adam would discipline the boy.  He watched his own boy, who looked restless.  A bedtime spanking wouldn’t hurt Finn in the least, he mused.

They were admitted to Tess’ office, where she was surrounded by the usual night end reports at her desk.  She rose with a smile, and came to take Carl’s hands and kiss him lightly on the lips.

“And how was your evening?”

“Wonderful,” he told her, ignoring the snort from Puck.  “Finn?”

“It was great,” Finn told her, eyes shining, as he hastily removed his frown from Noah.

“Noah, come here please,” Tess requested. 

He was about to protest, but Carl’s gentle touch in the middle of his back reminded him that she wasn’t going to put up with any crap.   

“Thank you,” Tess said, laying a hand on his arm.  “Carl, why don’t you and Finn go on?  I’ll return Noah to Adam after we’ve had a little chat.”  A quirk to her lips told Carl she meant business with the boy.

“Puck?” he asked, just to keep the formalities covered.  Puck nodded amicably.

“Sure.  S’okay.”

“Good.  Tess, thank you, have a good night,” he told her, giving her another kiss, and pulling Finn around to stand before her.

“Thank you, honey.  Finn, I hope it was a good day?  Yes?  Then sleep well, young Mr. Hudson.”  Carl led his very sweet and well mannered boy out, leaving her with Noah.

Finn looked pensive as they made their way up the stairs.  “We had fun tonight,” he said.

“Mmm,” Carl agreed vaguely, trying to avoid influencing his words.  He watched Finn’s face as it wrestled with layers of emotion.

“Puck’s usually like this, at big events. He gets all worked up about it, overexcited, you know?  And then about halfway through, he kind of… loses something.”

It was interesting to listen to Finn’s special kind of intuition at work.  “What does he lose?”

“Self-control, for one thing.  But it’s more like… he stops caring?  Or maybe he cares too much, and it becomes too overwhelming to deal with, so he decides he’s just going to be an asshole.”  He sighed.  “I could see him doing that tonight.  Adam and Kurt weren’t there to deal with him, and I wasn’t really helping him much.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.”  He paused in the doorway to their floor.  “I wanted to have fun tonight too.  I didn’t want to have to be in charge of somebody who didn’t want it.”

Carl had to smile.  “You really think Puck doesn’t want it?”

“Not from me,” he said, sounding regretful.  “Not really.”

“Finn.”  Carl shook his head.  “He  _wants it._   He just doesn’t know how to deal with the way he wants it.”

Finn closed his eyes and nodded, breathing slowly.  “He’s really good at making me feel like a failure sometimes.”

“Well, that’s something I can help you deal with,” Carl replied easily.  “But you’d be happier if you could handle it directly, with him.”

Finn nodded, his eyes still closed.  “Thank you, sir.”

“My good boy.”  He let the tender tone come out, here in the hallway, with no one else around.  Finn shuddered a little, but accepted it without comment.  “I think you need a few things before bed.”

“Yes, sir,” Finn agreed.  He played with the cuff on his wrist, and when he opened his eyes again, they were thoughtful.  “Puck should have been wearing his collar tonight.”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t want Adam to feel bad.”

Carl felt an unexpected pang of sympathy for Adam.  “I don’t think he did.”

“No?” Finn looked surprised.  “When we were upstairs.  You don’t think he wished Puck were wearing  _his_  collar?”

“Maybe.  That doesn’t mean he wasn’t willing to let Puck have that, from you and Kurt.  Feeling jealous doesn’t preclude feeling generous.”

Finn nodded slowly.  “You know, maybe you’re right.  Even when I could tell he was jealous, he never said he didn’t want Puck or Kurt to have this, with me. Or anything else, for that matter.”

They opened the door and went inside — and paused when they saw who was sitting on the couch, waiting for them. 

“I think I expected you guys to go to bed?” Carl said, bemused.

Adam nodded, holding up Kurt’s hand.  “I think we might have a slight modification to that plan.”

* * *

Tess regarded Puck with severity.  He didn’t exactly glare back, but she suspected he might want to.  Like he would have, if it had been anyone other than Tess.

“And  _you_.  I thought I mentioned that you needed to behave yourself?  Being on the club floor before you’re eighteen is an enormous privilege.”

“But I --”

He yelped as she turned him, and swatted his bottom sharply several times as she spoke.  “I keep an eye on the club from my office, you know, even if I’m stuck up here with private meetings.  Though I am remarkably glad it wasn’t security pulling  _you_  out of there, I’d hate to have had to keep that promise.  Oh, Noah,” she sighed.   “Come here.”   

He didn’t resist, as she turned him again, pulling him in this time to hug him close, though she was gentle about it.  Tears suddenly in his eyes, he wasn’t gentle about letting his arms circle around her and hanging on tightly.

“I feel like such an idiot,” he said, his voice muffled by the cloth of her burgundy dress.  “I don’t even know why I do the stuff I do sometimes.  Adam’s awesome.” 

Tess stroked the baby soft hair on the side of his mohawk.  “Don’t disparage yourself, Noah.  If you continue, I’ll have to be stern with you.”

“But it’s stupid.  I don’t even know what I’m --”  He paused, sighing.

This time, Tess did swat his bottom, and not lightly.  He winced, but didn’t pull away from her, which told her something about how tired he probably was.  “We’re going to eliminate ‘stupid’ from your vocabulary when you’re speaking of yourself, your feelings, and your relationships.  Understood?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm.  And I think you do know, in here, and in here.”  She tapped his forehead, and his chest.   “It may not be the easiest thing to find a pathway, to let it out from these places into the world, but we can talk it over until you  _do_  know, Noah.  Or find other ways for you to demonstrate what’s inside — and  _not_  by bratting for me.”

He took a moment to think about that, which gave her a flush of pride, but she kept her expression stern.  Noah might not be one who verbalized his feelings easily, but he still didn’t need one ounce of leeway here. 

“I think,” he said at last, slowly, “that it’s... my daughter.  She’s going to be born in four months.”   The expression on his face was one shade less than terrified.  “That feels like a f- a really short time before I have to be ready to -- to do all kinds of stuff.”

“Noah.”  She cupped his chin in one hand, bringing him to face her directly.   “I’d worry about your sanity if you were  _not_  scared to death about that.  What else is in there, swimming about?  And no, you’re not off the hook for a discussion about your baby girl.  What else?”

He didn’t even hesitate this time.  “Kurt wants me to move in with him.  Back in with him.  And there’s no way I can -- I mean, I know I’m not going to be able to handle it --”

“Stop.”

He cut himself off, staring at the floor.  

“Noah.  You will never, unless you’ve some supernatural ability I’ve not seen yet, be able to know how you will cope or handle a situation until you are right there smack in the middle of it.  Never.   The only thing that will improve your facility with that is time.”  She knew she was being painfully sympathetic to his plight, and she could see him flinching back under the care she was showing.  “So here’s what we’ll do when you’re ready.   I want you to think over all of the terrible things about moving in with your family, and then, Noah, I want you to think about all of the wonderful things.  And when you’ve got those things in your head, on each side of the fence, you come to me, and we’ll talk it over, I promise.”

His face was pained.  “I know.  I don’t have, like, a list or anything, but I know it’s good.  Living with Sarah, and being there for Kurt, and -- and Burt and Carole and everything.  But I still don’t... I can’t...”  He trailed off helplessly, shaking his head.  

She smiled, stroking that soft hair just behind his temple, watching how his eyes closed a little in relaxation.  “You can, Noah.   Will you please make a list — both lists for me?”

He nodded, his eyes falling closed.  She supported his head on her shoulder, letting him rest there, breathing.  

“Is there something seriously wrong with me, Lady Tess?” he whispered.  “Why can’t I just be okay with what Kurt and Burt want to give me?”

“No,” she murmured, leaning to kiss his temple.  “There is nothing wrong with you, Noah.  Honey…  I understand how you’re feeling.  I know it’s difficult, to articulate it, to make those lists, but I promise you, it will help, and you won’t feel like the odd man out afterwards.  Can you trust me, sweetheart?”   She moved her hand away from the soft hairs, moving to stroke through the length of his mohawk, and grimaced as her fingers tangled in the product that kept it standing defiantly upright.   “Honestly, Noah, what did you put in your hair?  Rubber cement?”  She knew her tone was perhaps a little tart, but it couldn’t hurt to see if it helped to pull him out of the wallowing he was creeping closer and closer toward.

“It’s wax.  Helps it stand up.”  He put a hand up to touch his mohawk, looking somewhat protective of it.  

Tess shook her head a little.  “If you were my sub, I’d have scrubbed it out of your scalp the moment you walked in the door, and watched while you dumpstered the product.”  She was stern, and he fidgeted a little.

He shook his head.  “No, Tess, it’s like -- the hair, the attitude, the look?  It’s all part of a package.  It’s not for me.  It’s for Kurt, and Glee club, and everybody who needs a little extra defending.  I’m the badass.  Glee club needs me.”

“Oh, my darling.  It is for you, though.   And might I remind you that said “package” is what’s earning no end of spankings.   Your  _families,”_  she stressed the plural, “need you.  Your families have the ability to see what’s underneath that ridiculous mohawk -- which isn’t really any better than a baboon flashing its crimson ass in a mating dance, bragging about how big its balls are.”

His eyes widened, and he stared at her.  “Uh…”

“I am two seconds from pitching you into a bathtub with a bar of Lava and scrubbing it out myself,” she told him, eyeing it disdainfully.  Both hands went up this time to cover his head, like he expected a great bar of soap to appear out of the sky and take him to task right there.  “Yes, that’s right.   You  _aren’t_  your mohawk, and this, as handy as it is…”  She twisted her fingers in it, watching as he winced.  It put him deftly on his knees, though she sank down with him, so that they remained at eye level.  “It’s a vulgar tool, really.”  He looked at her, obviously confused, and she smiled at him.

Then she stood.  Her hand curled around his scalp on the side where it was shaven, circling his ear, fingers sliding along his strong jaw until they came to rest under his chin.  And then she raised an eyebrow, and put enough pressure there that he too rose slowly to his feet. 

“That’s more like it.  Understand?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.  His eyes rolled over to take in her hand on his jaw, but he did not try to get away from it.  “Ma’am.”

“There’s my good boy.  Tell me what you need, Noah.”

Now he looked terrified again.  “I don’t -- I don’t know.”

“Noah.   People have… myriad needs.   Perhaps I should have been more clear.   Tell me what you need from me - or, sweetheart, tell me what you need from your Tops, if you would like help asking, or if you’d like me to walk you to meet them.”

He was almost in tears, hanging his head.  “I’m sorry, I just -- I don’t know.”

“Shh,” she soothed.   “Come here, Noah.”  She gathered him back in close again, rocking him where they stood.  Tess watched the boy carefully as his shoulders shook in silent, tearless sobs, and waited until the energy of grief, frustration and submission, transferred into clinging more strongly to her.   At the first clear breath, she found his hand, and grasping it firmly, led him towards the door.  “Now.  Come along with me, please.”   She led him to the doorway of her office, making a last assessment of his demeanor, and satisfied that he was in need of not just herself, but all of his Tops, she led him towards the stairs to find the rest of his cohort.

She rapped firmly on the door to his room and waited with him, not letting go of his hand.  He looked like he might want to bolt, but he stayed, even after the door opened and Kurt was there, waiting for him. 

“You’ll forgive me for being brief,” Tess said without preamble, as she transferred Puck’s over to Kurt’s, “but it’s late, and this boy needs some care.”  She blinked as she realized the room had rather more people in it than she’d expected.  “It looks as though this would be the place for him to get it tonight.  But Noah…”  He looked up at her immediately.  “You will come to me tomorrow, before you leave, and we’ll finish our conversation.”

Puck nodded, and if he didn’t look exactly comforted, Tess knew that wasn’t the most important thing at the moment.  “All right.  I’ve already said good night to all of you, and I’ll leave you to your… sleep.”  She put perhaps more emphasis on the last word than she normally would have, but considering it was past 2am and these young, growing people were all still awake, she thought they might need a little prodding.

“Yes, ma’am,” Kurt said, smiling at her.  “Thank you for bringing him here.  We’ll see you tomorrow.”

_It is tomorrow,_  she thought dryly, closing the door and heading down the hall to her own room, but she wasn’t going to lecture them.  Not on Valentine’s Day.


	6. Sunday, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys wake up in a bed together. Tess meets with three people before breakfast. Finn has the most embarrassing moment ever. Alec does some tattoos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank all my readers for putting up with our self-indulgence of this preponderance of original characters. I tried to clearly label this interlude, in case people decided to skip it and keep reading when the boys were back in Lima. Flynn and I had a lot of fun writing this section together, though, and there was some important character development, so you might want to at least skim for that. 
> 
> I have alluded to something that happened between the five of them on Saturday night, but I will save that to write as a stand-alone chapter in the Donutverse Kinky Ways. Until then, you'll just have to use your imagination. 
> 
> Warnings in this chapter for five-in-a-bed sexual activities, mild angst, lots of uncomfortable talking about BDSM and five tattoos. Enjoy! 
> 
> -amy and flinchflower

Kurt heard Puck crying from what felt like very far away. It took him a long time to emerge from sleep. By the time he awoke into darkness — from the look of the sky outside their window, it was clearly still early, and a good number of hours before dawn — all of the rest of them were stirring, too.

It was even more surreal, in the midst of this familiar nighttime ritual of comforting Puck, to be surrounded by  _all_  of his lovers at once — plus one. Kurt blinked sleepy eyes at Finn's bare arm flung over Carl's chest on one side, while Adam held Puck on the other, murmuring words of comfort into his ear until he settled down.

"He's not really awake, is he?" Carl's voice was gravelly. Finn shifted closer, rubbing his face against Carl's t-shirt.

"Sometimes he doesn't wake up. His bad dreams and his good dreams are kind of hard to tell apart."

"Layers of both," Kurt whispered. He couldn't resist reaching across Adam to touch Puck, feeling the heat of his skin, the quivering of his body as he wept in his sleep, even though Puck was perfectly protected in Adam's arms.

Carl propped himself up on his arm, still holding onto Finn. "Have you tried cuffing him at night?"

"He's happiest chained to the bed," Adam agreed, keeping his voice soft, "but I wasn't sure if that would be the right thing here?"

He and Finn were facing away from one another, with Kurt in the middle, but Kurt could feel a kind of uneasy truce between them. After what had happened last night, he was pretty sure they were going to have to have some kind of a conversation, but it wasn't going to happen in the middle of the night.

"Anyway," Adam went on, after a quiet pause, "I really don't mind doing this, taking care of him when he needs it."

"I don't think any of us mind it," said Finn.

Carl leaned over and kissed Finn, not an absent, paternal kiss, but a possessive one, with plenty of intent behind it. Kurt would have looked away if he'd seen that happen in daylight, but here in the dark, his heart still full of all the things they'd said to him the night before, it wasn't necessary. Watching Finn's reaction to Carl was both touching and hot, and the combination was too compelling to resist. He felt Adam's cheek brushing against his neck.

"Let's put Noah in the middle," Adam said, "so I can be behind you."

Kurt's moan was echoed by Finn's. He was grateful for Finn's focus on Carl, because he was having a hard enough time dealing with Adam's singular attentiveness, particularly in the midst of this bed full of stimulation. If Finn had been paying attention to him, too, he might have — well, he didn't exactly know, but it would have been more than he was ready to deal with.

They shifted Puck over into the center of the wide bed, letting him roll into the warmth of Finn's back, and he stayed asleep. Adam nudged Kurt up against Puck's body, then flanked him on the outside, spooning him neatly between the two of them. After last night, and their collective near-exhaustion, Kurt should have closed his eyes and gone right back to sleep.

Instead, he ground up against Puck's hip, feeling the pressure of Adam behind him, and watched Finn and Carl's kissing escalate. Something was definitely going on between them under the covers, but Kurt really didn't feel like he had the right to ask for details, even if he'd wanted them.

Kurt didn't realize Puck had woken up until he rested a hand on Finn's back, caressing the marks on his back on the way to his ass. Kurt heard Finn curse, but it didn't sound panicked.

"You getting what you need, Hudson?" came Puck's encouraging comment. The tone of his voice let Kurt know what kind of space Puck was in, and it clearly wasn't the submissive one he'd been in just hours before. Kurt relaxed a little more, gripping Puck's hips. Puck gave him a sensual grind in return. "You gave Kurt what he needed last night. I'm thinking maybe it's your turn."

"Mmmm." Carl sounded like he approved of that idea. Finn wasn't saying any words, but judging by the tone of the noises he was making, Kurt was absolutely sure he was getting  _something._  "Sounds like you had something in mind."

"Yeah," Puck said with relish. "I know what Finn likes. I'm in a good position here to give it to him. And I'm guessing it's not going to take long. Finn, you want my fingers, or my cock?"

Finn made another desperate noise. At this rate, Kurt wondered if he was going to have to gag Puck with his own fingers. His filter seemed to have gotten lost in the excitement of the moment.

"You can say no, Finn," Kurt told him, but Carl laughed quietly.

"He's not going to say no."

Kurt wasn't absolutely sure if that meant Carl was certain Finn didn't  _want_  to say no, or if he was  _forbidden_  from saying no. He guessed the former, but it was impossible to know without asking. Kurt wasn't going to ask.

"I can pass the lube over," Adam whispered into Kurt's ear, "but I'm going to need it back."

"No need," Kurt replied. There was no way he was going to pass up another chance at bare sex with Adam, not when he knew for a fact it was safe. He hadn't gotten up to wash away the lube they'd used the night before, and when Adam nudged him again, he reached down between their legs to tuck the head of Adam's cock inside him. Adam made an audible gasp, and he smiled. "Finn doesn't use any… and we're good to go."

Puck's snort sounded far too amused. "Kurt, did you actually say  _good to go?"_

"I'm pretty sure one of the rules of multipartner sex says you're not allowed to laugh at anybody's patter," said Adam. He sounded like he was holding back a laugh himself.

"Uh,  _no._ The rule is, laughing is  _always_  allowed — fuck." His interjection came out more breathy. Kurt watched as Puck repositioned himself further down on the bed, far enough that Adam's next thrust into Kurt caused Kurt to bump up against Puck's shoulder. When Puck found the right angle, Finn cried out, and there he stayed, on a three-quarters position kneeling over Finn, grinding lazily into him. It almost looked like they were just snuggling — if Kurt hadn't seen the delighted expression on Carl's face. "Fuck, you're so tight."

"See, that's classic porno dialogue," Adam said. "How am I supposed to take you seriously now, Noah?"

"It's the plug training," Carl added. "Those muscles are getting a workout every day."

"Well, I'm sold." Puck rested his cheek on Finn's back, where the marks from yesterday morning's session stood out in sharp relief against his pale flesh, and made another rotation with his hips. "This working for you, huh, Hudson?"

"You don't have to answer that, boy." Carl met Finn's mouth with his, capturing Finn's incoherent moans, while Puck snickered.

Kurt decided not to be affronted by any of this conversation, relaxing back into Adam's arms. Whatever was happening, he was here, with three of the people who meant the most to him in the world. And as for Carl… he had proved himself to be trustworthy, and Kurt would stand by the statement that Carl was good for Finn, no matter how unorthodox their relationship was. Kurt had managed to let go in front of Carl the night before; he was pretty sure he could trust Carl enough to share this experience with him, too. This wasn't complicated. It was as easy as falling.

"Noah," he said softly. Puck didn't pause in his movements, but he drew Kurt's hand down to his chest, to cover his heart.

"Baby," Puck replied, matching his tone for tenderness.

It gave Kurt an enormous boost of confidence to hear Puck sounding like that. He smiled. With his other hand, he reached back and cupped Adam's head, straining his neck to kiss him.

"Oh, god," Kurt heard Finn say, his voice muffled and taut as piano wire.

Nothing had changed. No one had altered their pace, or but Kurt could feel the tension peak, and he was suddenly, without warning, both blinking away tears and right on the edge of coming. He wished he had another pair of hands to be able to reach for Finn as he listened to him come apart, but knowing Carl and Puck had him was more than good enough.

"That's it, honey," Adam whispered, "such a good boy."

Adam held on tight to Kurt until he was finished, rubbing off against Puck's firm bicep. After that, Adam took his time, maintaining the same slow pace for what felt like an eternity, long after Puck had come and Finn was flat on his back beside him.

Finn still looked overwhelmed, but he didn't hesitate to intertwine his hand with Kurt's and kiss him while Adam had his way with him. He watched Kurt's face with interest.

"It's not too much?" he asked curiously.

"It's — not up to me," Kurt gasped, and Adam chuckled.

It was a gentle reflection of the night before when Puck climbed back into bed on the other side of Adam, so that Kurt was flanked by all three of his lovers. He let himself float, submitting to the intensity of being penetrated again so soon.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to come again," Adam said, somewhat apologetically. "You two have much shorter refractory periods than I do."

"That's completely okay," Kurt assured him. He was starting to feel lightheaded. "No complaints."

Puck muffled gentle laughter, nuzzling Adam's neck as Adam disengaged from Kurt, and Finn sighed contentment. Kurt was vaguely aware of Carl moving around the room outside of his field of vision, and then he was there, leaning over Finn to kiss him and tucking a bottle of water into his hand.

"I'm going to take a shower. I'll set the alarm for eight; James is preparing breakfast for us."

Kurt watched Finn's face as Carl disappeared into the hallway. "He's okay?"

"Yeah. I think so. I don't think it's about this, anyway."

"Yeah," Adam agreed. "He's okay with this."

Kurt turned to face Adam. "So… what  _is_  this, anyway?"

"You're asking me?" Adam laughed, but Finn was the one who responded.

"It's us. Trusting each other."

They sat with that answer, feeling the weight of it, and Kurt had to marvel at his own lack of fear. "Yeah," he said softly. "That's what it is."

* * *

Carl looked more than exhausted. Tess was pretty sure it had less to do with lack of sleep and more with the activities he'd been up to with his boys all weekend. It was intense work, handling three subs, especially young green ones like Kurt and his family. Tess also knew the complicated nature of making peace with another Top.

"Darling. Talk to me, hmm? It isn't particularly helpful to have you blinking at me like a mesmerized sloth."

He gave her a wry smile. "Good morning, Tess. Trust me, it has nothing to do with the quality of your mattresses. I sleep as well here as I do anywhere."

Tess snorted, and raised an eyebrow. "And yet here we are, my boy, with you dancing in avoidant figure eights. Spill, sweetheart. I'm listening."

He sank down beside her with a long sigh - too long for morning, she decided.

"Now." The command stood in the air between them, and it was a balance point, really. If he obeyed, it would be fine, and if not… she steeled herself internally for battle with the winner of the Most Recalcitrant Brat on the Planet award.

"Um," he said hastily, "yes. I've been seeing this client. She's - well, she's really something else."

Tess refrained from letting a sigh escape as her radar pinged out a Dire Brat Alert. She sensed a familiar refrain in his story, and steeled herself to wait.

"I've been giving her a standard measure of education and discipline. It does seem to be helping." He paused at her inquisitive eyebrow. "She's dealing with what I would diagnose as obsessive-compulsive disorder."

That had her interest. "Really? That's new, isn't it, in your clientele? Tell me more, sweetheart."

He seemed comforted by her tone, and continued. "Yeah, she approached me from a clinical angle, presenting me with the paper that Leroy wrote in graduate school? That was a surprise."

"Oh my. Reliance on local source? Or on the literature, in your opinion?"

He stretched his legs, looking thoughtful. She watched him relax, trying not to reveal her cards too soon.

"I think it's a combination of the two. She's a counselor herself, with a master in social work. She, uh." He ducked his head. "She works at McKinley as a guidance counselor."

"I see. Jesse, I can understand how she would be reluctant to seek out the recommended course of assistance. That makes sense, darling. So it becomes, perhaps, more complicated because she's counseling your boy, and the others, hmm?"

"Exactly," he agreed fervently. "I was reluctant to take her as a client to begin with, but Leroy referred her to me directly, and... anyway."

"Leroy. Oh my. Continue, please." Mentally, she had a tally stick that she was marking.

"Yes, well." He shifted in his seat. "As our professional relationship progresses, I'm noticing a certain amount of... connection between the two of us. Enough that I'm starting to question whether or not we should continue in a professional capacity."

She observed his squirming without reacting outwardly. Everything after that point was a well phrased excuse, frankly, aside from the question he posed.

"What have I always told you, Jesse, about what should happen the minute you begin to question action?"

He froze for just a moment, glancing up at her. "Um - I lose focus. I... something else? It's too early for questions like that, Tess."

"Yes, something else." Her prompt was kind, and tolerant in a way she hoped he might remember - and remember with a wince.

"I just see how much she's benefiting from this. And I don't want to take advantage of her or her situation. I mean, she's great, no matter what kind of struggle she's having."

"Jesse. Whatever happened to 'regroup?' If you're worrying about taking advantage." Tess frowned. "It sounds to me as if you're ceasing to think of her as a client. Need I point out the dangers in this?"

He grimaced. "No. You don't need to. And I don't even know if she feels the same way."

Tess made herself pause before she replied. "Feels the same way.  _Carl Jesse."_

"Well," he said, somewhat defensively, "she's - nice." He looked a little distressed by this. "Much nicer than Shelby, I should say."

Tess made an effort to not smack her palm to the center of her forehead.  _Nice_  indeed. She simply waited calmly for him to continue. The moment she heard stammering or self doubt...

"Carl Jesse Howell." The words were quiet, and she waited, grey eyes trained on him, intense. "I can see clearly that this working relationship has progressed far beyond the intended bounds - at least in your mind." She knew it would be condescending, but she was past caring at this point. She knew her boy, but why in the hell he would invite yet more trouble was completely beyond her. Regardless, she'd take it out of his hide.

"It hasn't," he protested. "She's not even a friend. I met her down at Irene's, and it's been strictly business since then, I swear."

"In your mind, Carl Jesse. You're comparing her to Shelby, for mercy's sake! Go ahead, try and tell me differently." She needed to take a breath, she wasn't doing a good job of sitting on her temper here, but this boy...

He was clearly taken aback by this, but it quickly shifted to sheepish embarrassment. "I - I guess I'm thinking about Angela."

"I don't see how your situation with Angela has anything to do with this young woman and her OCD."

"You know that Angela's made it clear for years that she's not willing to accept a new employer, period. It didn't matter how great they were; she wasn't leaving me. But at some point, she will, and - and she's been a part of my life for so long, Tess, I really can't see myself going back to being without a full-time slave."

Tess couldn't help it; she was on her feet before she thought about it. "Carl Jesse Howell, whose choice is it?  _Who_  makes the decisions for best interest and care? You get your sorry butt over here  _right now -"_

He scrambled back two steps, his eyes going wide, but before Tess could give him more specific orders, there was a hesitant knock on her door. It took her just a couple seconds to decide which need was more dire, but she knew staff wouldn't allow an interruption without very good reason.

"We are not finished with this discussion," she hissed at him, as she rose.

"Tess," he protested, but she cut him off with a look before turning the knob. It was probably better this way; he might get away intact and unspanked, and have some time to rethink his words - and his actions.

The figure in the doorway wasn't among the variety of people she would have expected at this time of day - Stephen, perhaps, or James with a pot of tea - but she could tell Jacob was distraught. His posture was straight and his hands steady, but the expression on his face made him look like a kicked puppy.

"Jacob," she exclaimed. "Come in, please. I've Jesse here, but we can finish our discussion later - what's the matter, honey?"

"I'm sorry to bother you this early in the morning," he began, following her beckoning hand into her office.

"It's no bother, Jacob. Jesse, would you see if there's a bottle of water in the sideboard?" She showed the young man to a chair close to the one she'd occupied, with her own cup of tea close to hand. She was pleased to see that Jesse had the common sense to acquiesce without a word, and it pleased her more to see that he opened the cap without thinking, leaving it resting lightly atop the bottle before handing it to the young security agent.

Jacob sat in the chair Tess indicated, thanking Carl with a nod that was somewhat dismissive. Carl didn't seem to mind, retreating to the couch along the wall, listening with the same impassive, concerned expression he would have used with a new client.

"Should this be a private conversation?" she asked pointedly, glancing between the two of them, a slight frown of displeasure beginning as her eyes came to rest on Carl.

"No, no, it's fine," Jacob said absently. "I don't... well, to be honest, I don't really know what to ask." He shot Tess a look of appeal. "It's Timothy."

"Ah. You don't need to know the questions, Jacob. Give me the answers that are worrying you, and we'll work the questions out together."

That seemed to reassure him. He took a deep breath. "You might know that he's new to discipline. Like, really new. We've talked about it plenty over the past month, but I didn't offer physical discipline to him until a few days ago. He's got a history of abuse, as you can imagine."

"Hmm." Fortunately Jacob was focused on her, and not Jesse, who flinched at that familiar noise.

"I'm afraid I'm a little lacking with respect to your disciplinary resume, Jacob. You've… had a Top? You've Topped before? I don't wish to assume, however…"

"Oh," Jacob said, nodding, "yeah, I have a Top, back in Los Angeles. I'm pretty sure you know him - Cal Voight? But he pegged me as a Top right away." He gave her a wan smile. "If you know him, you might also know how he feels about a Top understanding his job from all perspectives."

"I do," she acknowledged, her severe expression softening. "How long has it been since you and Cal formalized your relationship, Jacob?"

"Three years last spring. He was the one who trained me in security. He's been real supportive of me going off on my own, working with Adam. But this is the first time I've had a boy of my own." His forehead creased just briefly before his face returned to the same calm state.

"Thank you, Jacob. I assume Timothy has no understanding of the lifestyle, aside from what you've chosen to introduce him to?" She was quite relieved, hearing Cal's name, and the significant time period Jacob had been under Cal's protective wing. It spoke well for the boy, and she felt she recognized Cal's quiet confidence, reflecting on the observations she'd made about how Timothy responded to the young Top.

"Yeah, he was pretty upset when he found out what his brother was doing with Adam. That's how we met; he came to me to try to get me to explain things. And, um." He grinned. "To seduce me, I'm pretty sure. You can see how well that worked."

Tess allowed herself a small smile. There was a rustle from Jesse across the room, but she didn't take her eyes away from Jacob. "So it's beyond a formal arrangement, then."

"Oh, he's my boyfriend," he said easily. "First one of those I ever had. And as for the discipline, I don't think he really thought about us ever exploring this territory together. I mean, I could tell from day one he was asking for it, but I wasn't going to push him."

"And he would remain as your boyfriend?" she inquired gently, despite the boy's reassurance. "Even if he were not willing to continue in a submissive role, accepting discipline from you?"

Jacob looked pensive. He took a drink from his bottle of water before replying. "I guess that would be a discussion we'd have to have, if he ever decided that. I don't... I'm pretty sure he's not going to ask me to stop. But he's..." He sighed. "God, he's pushing me."

Tess frowned. "You understand the importance of clearly communicating the boundaries of both sides of the relationship. You must vividly mark that line for him - not only with the reassurance of the fetters on your own behaviour, but with the uncompromising lines which he may not cross. On one side, his boyfriend - the other, his disciplinarian. Is this clear, or would you like me to elaborate further?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "I got that. One thing I figured out about Timothy was that he's absolutely sure everybody's going to leave him - and his response to that is to leave everybody first, before they can get there? So I told him, right at the beginning, before we did anything about discipline, I made him a promise. That I would always come after him, even if he ran. And he agreed to that."

"Ah. I"m familiar with that. Jacob - there's a third boundary, then. The line is quite foggy - but it's that line between friend, and lover. I suggest you keep that promise from the safe territory of the boundary of friendship, for one man to care for another. It's quite difficult, to demonstrate, and explain, to a distressed boy, the difference between the two - but it can be simplified. If I might suggest - always treat him as the friend, first. Then make a clear line in the sand, if you will. As a friend, you come after him because of your promise, from the simplicity of your care for him. Reassure him in that. And then, as a lover, you might point out the consequences of his actions - how they affect your feelings. He seems mature enough to listen with perspective?"

Jacob was nodding. "He's still pretty young, even though he's been on his own for a lot longer than a kid his age should have been, but he's handling this relationship so far. All the parts of it - the friendship, and the sex, and the discipline. He's a great guy." He grimaced. "Which is not to say he hasn't pissed me off six thousand times this weekend."

Tess ignored the more personal comment, remaining focused on her goal. "Very good, Jacob. Now we return to the much simpler line, between lover and disciplinarian. All he really needs to know, as a novice, is that if he crosses the line you have detailed clearly - perhaps even in writing, to improve consistency - you will discipline him. Have you drawn a line, declaratively, before today - you warned him not to bolt, I understand. Did you detail consequences for that behaviour?"

He was back to thoughtful again. "Sort of," he said slowly. "I told him I wasn't going to discipline him unless he was ready to jump to follow my orders, without question. If he resists, at all, I'm not going to do it. It takes a while to get him there, sometimes, but I'm pretty confident I can do that. He listens to me. He trusts me."

"So Timothy has a tendency to run. Jacob, you must be deliberately clear with him on this. It may very well be a terrible conversation - but you might initiate it when he does something as simple as turn his back in you during a conversation. Be clear about when you will discipline him for avoidance. Certainly you wouldn't do so for turning his back on you in a conversation, hmm? But consider avoidance on an escalation scale, please. Avoidance is demonstrated upon a broad spectrum - from the first failure to meet another person's eyes, all the way along that spectrum to the point at which an individual runs - and in the case of a brat, that definition is perhaps more stringent. In your average rebellion, a person might extend running so far as to "run away from home," hmm? I have found it expedient to make the limits of avoidance clear. I personally don't dismiss avoidance of direct eye contact with myself, as some of them know intimately." She was unable to help glancing at Jesse.

Carl didn't reply in words, but he chuckled quietly, settling back in his chair. Tess went on.

"Topping involves pushing boundaries, however. The bottom line here in this household, is leaving the building. A sub can retreat to a safe place here in the building - even a space agreed upon, where I might not go to fetch him, no matter how badly I want to. All bets are off, however, if one toe so much as crosses the threshold of an outside door. I can't protect someone properly, outside of these doors. And for you, that boundary might be different - a house, a neighborhood, a city…" She let it trail off.

Jacob was nodding again. "That was what happened, yeah. He ran, over and over, until one day when I finally told him, no. He said he would keep doing it, but I wasn't going to let him anymore. But here, this weekend, he's gotten worse. A lot worse."

"You must be clear about the boundary, Jacob," she insisted. "Tell him so, immediately - the first time he turns away from you, physically, in a discussion, after you leave this room. You are welcome to present it as aligning your rules with the Tessera standard, if you like, the other managers follow the same boundary."

"I think there's a chance that could backfire," he admitted. "But I also think you're right. I have to take a stand for what I think he needs."

"You trusted Cal with your needs," Tess said quietly. "And I daresay not all of those were very Toppish, hmm?"

Jacob laughed. "No. I was a wide-eyed daredevil with a big ego when he first got his hands on me. I thought I knew so much."

"And yet you're here, asking my opinion - which demonstrates, honey, just how wise you've grown," she said, with a wry smile.

He grinned at Carl. "Heh. I've learned a lot of patience - and humility - taking care of Adam these last eight months."

Tess raised an eyebrow. "I might hope for more of your time, before you leave for the weekend, to discuss what you're willing of that. He's been granted provisional membership, though, you would serve as an excellent character witness."

Jacob stood. "I think he'd be more than willing to tell you whatever you want to know, and he's a lot more eloquent than I am. I also think he doesn't have a very good idea of what he really needs, but that's just my opinion." He held out his hand. "Thanks so much for this."

Tess stood as well, taking his hand and pulling him in to kiss his cheek, murmuring softly. "I shall have to give my compliments to Cal." She pulled back, observing his stoic calm, though she wondered if she might have flustered him a bit. "You're very welcome, Jacob. My door is almost always open." She heard Carl snort from across the room, but ignored it with the ease of long practice. She would cope with him shortly. "The staff knows when to halt someone, so don't worry about finding me, please. Let me know if I might help."

"I'll have to see how he reacts to my insistence," he said. "If he bolts while he's here, I guess he can't go very far, huh?"

Tess couldn't hide the anxiety that statement produced. "Jacob. You grew up in California, yes? Tessera is sited on substantial acreage, and there's a very deceptively calm looking river at the back of the property. In the winter, the dangers to someone unfamiliar with the grounds include not just frostbite and hypothermia, but those the river has to offer as well - it's iced over, but not solidly, and it only takes one step to be in over a man's head in some of the bends. This was a college outpost at the turn of the century, and honey… students died, in the winter, behaving recklessly."

He pressed his lips together. "I don't think he's going to leave the building. He might try to get lost inside, but I'm thinking Phillip's got a camera trained on him 24-7." His smile was easy. "I'll try not to scare him that much."

"Promise me that you will notify security if he does run from you. Security does watch, but without a Top's direction - Jacob." She tried to keep the intense distress she felt from showing on her face, but knew she wasn't properly successful.

"I promise," he said. "And I never let him get far. He's my boy, after all."

That got a smile out of her, reluctant as it was. "I shall hold you to it. Go on now, find him. And stand your ground, young sir."

He smiled, giving her a short wave, and disappeared through the door into the hallway. Before the door had even closed, she heard Carl shuffling his feet in discontent behind her.

"You use that phrase a lot, huh?"

"Precision, Jesse, if you please."

"I mean..." He crossed his arms, with an all-too obvious expression of disgruntled displeasure. "You barely know him."

"Did you hear him prevaricate during that conversation? How many times did you hear him wander from the target subject?"

He sighed loudly. "Tess, I really don't need to hear about all the ways in which Jacob is better than me."

"I see. Pray identify the offending phrase for me?"

" _Young sir."_ The tone was just short of mocking. She could hear the air quotes.

"Exactly," she snapped. "The quality of thought and focus, and particularly truthfulness earned him that, Young Master Jesse."

He shot her a wounded look, sinking deeper into the couch as he fell silent. The resemblance between her boy and a five-year-old was striking, but she didn't think he would benefit from having this pointed out. As sulky as he was, she knew he wouldn't stay quiet long.

She sipped at her tea, appreciating the soothing flavor of the delicate blend. After so many years together, Tess understood her boy very well. Carl would demonstrate his needs - he was a shining star in a long list of subs, in that department. She had a damn good idea of what he needed, namely a stern hiding and a sharp, short lecture. The dancing they'd been doing was probably bad for him, but … she refused to sigh, sipping at her tea again. She recognized his conflicts, and too, she could see how he was exacerbating his situation. He was often blind to his own issues - at least until a decently weighted strap illustrated the reality of the situation to him.

"Do you..." he began, then stopped to clear his throat. He still sounded hurt, but there was a layer of anxiety over it, the way he often got when he was feeling inadequate. "It sounds like Jacob's doing a good job of taking care of his boy."

"Yes, it does," she said quietly. "He's focusing very well on Timothy's needs, and neither I nor Alex feel as if he's leaving Adam wanting for safety in the meantime."

He shifted his body to face her directly. "Tess... be honest with me. You'd tell me, if you thought I wasn't doing right by Finn, wouldn't you?"

"I would, my Jesse. The manner in which you've conducted the conversation about your new client incites some concern for me."

He chewed on his lip until he saw her look sharply at him, and stopped abruptly, looking ashamed. "I... yeah."

"' _Yeah,'_ " she repeated, disdainfully.

"I'm sorry," he pleaded. "I don't know what to do about that. Should I talk to her? Stop seeing her as a client? She's benefiting from the therapy."

"Are you asking my advice, or my comfort, Jesse?"

"I -" He broke off, closing his mouth with a snap. The look of recognition on his face was almost comical, but Tess hid her exasperated smile. The last thing Jesse needed was leeway. He cast a brief glance around himself, getting his bearings. Then he stood, his posture formal as he faced her.

"I wish to apologize for my behavior," he said. "I've been... disrespectful."

"I shall consider your apology. In the meantime, I believe we have a serious consultation to conclude with one another."

He nodded. "I'd welcome your feedback, of course, with thanks."

"Again, Jesse, are you asking my advice, or my comfort? Thus far, it remains unclear to me."

He ran an exasperated hand over his head, but she could tell the emotion wasn't directed outward. "Yeah, me too. I'm not sure how to answer. Both, I think? But I don't know which should come first? And, I don't know..." He looked discouraged. "I should be able to handle this on my own."

She ignored the extraneous words, considering him coolly. "Very well. I'll give you the advice first. My advice, Jesse, is to continue therapy with the young woman, and to leave anything other than professional behavior or thoughts to your own discretion. You have committed strongly to a critically risky relationship with a minor, with parental permission. My advice is to not detract from the focus of that high risk relationship. Further, your client, with severe anxiety and OCD, will be highly unlikely to benefit from the advancement of nonprofessional relations, until therapy has successfully reduced the emotionally dependent, negative behaviours of her conditions. And, on your very new partner's behalf, the addition of an intimate relationship on your part will reduce his trust for you - which you've seen, watching the reactions of his age-immediate cohort. Kurt was devastated when Finn made the choice to see you - do you wish for Finn to experience the same distress and worry? And yes, my dear, Finn and Kurt are two different people, but I speak to a fundamental level of the ways in which humans build trusting relationships. If you interrupt anyone's development of trust, you harm the relationship. That, Jesse, is my advice."

Through her whole speech, she watched him absorb each statement, each one landing on him like a gentle blow, until by the end he was staring at the floor. She stood, watching him for long moments.

"My comfort? I'm sorry, for you, that you are experiencing this level of personal conflict. I wish it could be otherwise. And you realize, I hope, that it doesn't affect how I love and care for you, my boy. I don't need to approve of your behavior to love you. However. If you choose to proceed as you suggested, and pursue the additional relationship, I will be less available to you for consultation on that particular subject. Just as I do not discipline you for your errors with your daughter."

It was hard, saying those things to her boy. But if there was one thing that she knew about him, it was that he was terribly headstrong, not to mention - well, cockstrong, for want of a better word. He would follow his desires, and rationalize his heedlessness, and nothing anyone could say, short of taking control of him as a subordinate, would stop him. And Jesse was not a simple subordinate, but a Top in his own right - and Tess had to recognize all of those things as she tried to help him, to see him happy as anyone who loves another person wants them to be happy.

Carl stood very still while he considered all of her words. At least when he was in this frame of mind, she could count on him to be thoughtful and methodical - and, often, very hard on himself. But there were times when his self-critical examination could be helpful, and she felt this might be one of them.

"I think I needed to hear all of that," he said at last. "And maybe Jacob coming in here was fortuitous, as well. You can be certain I'll take all of it to heart."

"I know, darling. You always do well, thinking things over. However," she said firmly, and he seemed to shrink a little, under the weight of that word. "I wish for you to stay, and let the family drive back without you. We can easily arrange a flight for you - when you and I are through with our discussion, Jesse."

"Discussion." He eyed her with resignation. "I'm thinking that's not all you'll want to do with me."

* * *

When Adam came to find Stephen to ask if Tess was available to talk before breakfast, he looked a little distressed. "She's already had two meetings this morning," he said.

"We can do it another time," Adam replied, but he shook his head.

"She already told me she wanted to see you. Just wait one moment while I let her know you're here."

She didn't rise when he entered, but looked up briefly enough to murmur an excuse into her phone as Stephen seated the young man across from her desk, observing as she shuffled her paperwork to the side. Then she opened the top right hand drawer, sweeping the files into it and locking it before looking over the expanse of leather and wood at Adam.

"Water? Coffee or tea?"

"Water, thank you," he nodded, a little surprised. It only took him a moment to realize that Stephen hadn't exited her office, just stepped out of the alcove in which her desk stood.

A cup of fragrant tea was set down before Tess. Stephen placed a coaster on the wooden edge of the desk, then set a crystal cut goblet of ice water down within Adam's reach, though he'd have to come to the edge of the chair to pick it up.

"I'm glad to see you. I wasn't at all certain that you'd be able to find time away from your boys. I appreciate the consideration."

"Ma'am," Adam said carefully, inclining his head. "Kurt and Noah are getting ready for breakfast. I wanted to tell you how much I appreciate the opportunity you've given us - all of us."

"Carl was kind enough to vouch for what he knows of you. It's unusual for us to have a visitor who isn't fully vetted."

Adam flushed. "I should have asked Carl if there was anything I needed to do."

She shook her head. "It's a unique situation; we'll get through it. I was hoping that you would be willing to endure what amounts to a new member interview."

"Isn't it unusual for someone not local to be a club member?"

"Not at all. If you're willing, I'm happy to offer what amounts to a guest membership." She smiled, eyes sparkling a little. "I suspect you might be back with the boys."

"I hope so, and I'm happy to do whatever you need to take care of protocol," he told her, looking up, still a little uncomfortable. He knew from the security and privacy he'd been assured of that the visit was probably fine, but membership and records were another thing. He wondered what Jacob would say about this.

"Thank you. Now, of course I've seen you with the boys since you arrived, in public areas or with me directly. And I'll be frank: I've spoken with Burt regarding your relationships. The details of those conversations are quite confidential, but what he's told me speaks very strongly to your character and responsibility, Adam. So I'd like to ask a few more focused questions, if I may."

Adam nodded silently. Her formal professionalism was fascinating.

"Excellent. It's clear that you have an interest in BDSM. Will you tell me how that started?"

Adam flushed. He felt like a fraud already, just being here in a club like this, but he'd said he would answer her questions, and he wasn't going to lie.

"Not because I was looking for it," he admitted. "More with partners, seeing things in gay clubs, and wanting to play and shake things up in bed. It was a game. I used it in my music, could feel the energy of it, but that's all it was." He shrugged a little, feeling more confident as she nodded understanding. "When I met Noah in the coffee house in Santa Fe, it was obvious he took it seriously. I went into that encounter thinking it would be a one-night stand, that it was sexy and fun and... it wasn't. I mean, not just that. It was a lot more than that with Noah." He looked away. "And now with Kurt, too. My publicist has made it very clear I'll have to be extremely careful about things now. What'll be okay on stage isn't going to be the same thing as what'll be publicly acceptable for me as a person, and I hate that. I've never hidden my sexual orientation, but I'm so much more than that? And people focus so much on that. I want the details of what I do in the bedroom with 'my gay lovers'-" The phrase came out a little bitter. "- to remain private. I'm careful about the clubs I go to, and people I sleep with, especially because of that."

Tess nodded, looking pleased. "That's an extremely healthy attitude," she complimented him. "I can't fault you on any of it. Now, normally a new member fills out a BDSM checklist, a laundry list of sorts. I don't feel that's necessary here, but perhaps you can share yours with me verbally. Let me make it clear that you are not to show one of those to those boys at this stage." Her tone was severe, her grey eyes snapping. "That can wait until they're of age. I do not approve of teenagers - the definition of which often includes college students, even in their senior year - being competitive with BDSM practices. Frankly I don't trust those boys with a checklist yet. They'll do just fine with their lovers introducing them to favorite play, little by little."

Adam laughed. "I don't think I've seen anything like that, myself. I like to just… go by feel. I'm not really here looking for new thrills, but... okay. My laundry list." He sipped at the ice water. When she slid a plate of small shortbread cookies over to him, he took one, nibbling as he marshaled his thoughts.

"Probably the first thing I did was cross-dress. I'm best friends with a drag queen, after all." He laughed. Tess simply smiled and waited for him to continue. "Hmm. Massage, and oils, all the fun ones, you know? Bondage - not the fancy kind, just cuffs and rope, and scarves and ties. Blindfolds are nice, and so are vibrators - on my partner, not me. And I suppose you'd count me as an exhibitionist." He flushed at that, though she didn't react. "I like to show off when I go out, or have people watching, if it's people I trust. Not much more than that. I definitely got some ideas after watching the boys on the dance floor, and what they were interested in."

"I would encourage you to ask for what you want," Tess advised. "This is a specialized club. I wouldn't expect you to be able to handle everything you've seen right out of the gate, as an experiment or whatnot - no, honey, nothing against you. But the pony play, for example. That's rather complex, with complicated safety issues, hmm?"

Adam shook his head. "That's really not what I'm looking for. Noah and Kurt, I… I like caring for them. Even when they need to be spanked - I like watching that release, when the discipline allows them the freedom to let go."

"Ahh." Tess nodded knowingly. "And there we get down to the details, thank you. I like what I've seen with the boys minding you. Frankly, it's very pretty, watching them hand you control like that. And you seem very careful with that control. I believe I won't address their age; I imagine Burt's gone over that quite thoroughly with you. I will continue to apply my own rules to them while they are here in my club and in my home."

"I…" He sighed a little. "It's hard to say this. Living far away from Noah and Kurt as I do, I won't see them very often. But I am willing to reinforce the rules that they… that they live with, given to them by people in authority to them?" He watched Tess for feedback, wondering if he'd got it right.

She nodded. "Very good, Adam."

"Not that I wouldn't defend them, if I thought something was unfair," he hastened to say. "That school of theirs..." He shuddered delicately, and thought he detected a slightly sour look on Tess' face.

"I'm inclined to agree with you," was all she had to say on the matter. "Now, I need to understand, please. You enjoy caring for the boys, disciplining them. How do you feel about receiving care or discipline yourself?"

Adam was taken aback. "Oh, that's - for myself? No, I don't think I need that. I take care of myself pretty well. Touring in theater, and then being on Idol, none of that was very glamorous, but I handled it fine." He thought about it. "But discipline? My mom didn't do any of that. I mean, I think it's my job to make it in the world. It's up to me, not anyone else's job to hold me to it."

"A most excellent world view, and one I share myself," Tess said, looking satisfied. "Now, how have you approached new play with the boys?"

He shrugged. "The same way I do anything? Talk about it - or maybe just try it, mildly - and see what the reaction is, and go from there. I haven't really had my heart set on anything more than we've done already, in the context of BDSM. But if they wanted it, I'd do my best to provide it for them."

"I see. Are you comfortable taking advice, guidance from me, as the director of the club?"

"Oh! Yes, of course," Adam said, looking at her in some confusion. "The boys trust you, there's no reason I shouldn't. And in regard to Carl... well, I understand…" Adam coughed delicately, while Tess just waited. "I understand that you supervise Carl to some degree."

Tess nodded slowly. "That's correct. And that is also confidential. Do you understand?"

"Yes ma'am," Adam assured her, stumbling over the words. "I - I understand that Kurt isn't... seeing Carl, and that Noah isn't either, though the way Carl is supervising Finn, it kind of... trickles down? And I know that they might go to him for advice, which is fine with me."

Tess seemed to relax at that. "The boys know that they can call me at any hour or day." She slid a slip of paper with a phone number on it over to him. "Which I offer to you as well."

"Um - thanks," he said, feeling offended and grateful all at once.

Tess smiled. "Very good. Knowing that the membership log is confidential - and I do mean absolutely confidential, within the ACLU electronic guidelines - I feel free to ask you if you'd like to accept guest membership status."

"Oh. Wow." The extra information made a difference. It wouldn't possibly be a PR issue, not after seeing how things had been handled on the club floor the other night. His reaction got another smile from the older woman.

"Membership status includes unlimited access to the club within rules. In other words, rooms that require supervision still require supervision. As a guest, you also have a privilege, which is to meet with me when you wish, in accordance with my schedule." Tess gentled her tone. "And you may ask me at any time, or call me, honey."

"I'm flattered," he said honestly.

"It's the least I can do, and it's a privilege. Now, if - and that's a big if, Adam - if your relationship with the boys ends, the guest membership would do so as well. We have rules and bylaws that govern that. By those rules, after that point, you'd be welcome to maintain a regular membership."

"I understand," Adam said softly. "I think I…. I think I might like that, even if this doesn't work out. But I don't intend for it to fail, as silly as that sounds - because really, who goes into a relationship intending for it to fail?"

Tess smiled again. "One more cookie," she suggested, tapping the edge of the plate. "They're tiny, it won't hurt, and it'll give me an excuse to join you."

Adam looked at her, and took a cookie.

"You've certainly eased my mind on the technical aspect of your relationship, honey, thank you. I know conversations like this aren't easy. You're certainly calmer about it than many of the new members I've interviewed. Now, If I might address a personal concern?"

He blinked at her, trying to swallow the bite of cookie, and had to default to nodding. She eased past the moment; he felt as if she were trying to make him comfortable, still, and he decided to let her.

"Thank you. Now mind you, Adam," she said firmly, setting her teacup down with a little bit of a bang, "It's none of my business. But I wonder how you are going to handle the long distance issue, especially in tandem with the nature of your career."

Adam sighed, and put his chin in his hands, bracing his elbows on his knees. He gave her his most appealing look, the one that worked on his mom - Tess looked to be older, he thought, though he couldn't tell how much. "One day at a time. Which is a terrible answer, I know. We have an agreement about phones and texts. I've asked them for daily contact, which is hard sometimes, especially with the three hour time difference. And I am prepared to have to talk to Burt about visits in person. He's been really… nice… about stuff so far, nicer than he had a right to be." Adam felt himself falter, and struggled to maintain his confidence. "And as far as my career goes, there's two sides to it that I can see. One, I'll be on tour this summer, and it's going to be extremely intense. I've toured with theater companies before, and I know this will be even more so. Time's going to be tight. I plan to talk to Kurt and Noah about what a day on tour is like, and be open with them about the schedule, and the restrictions that will make it even harder to talk to them."

She nodded. "And the second side?"

"That would be the off-stage performance. Namely flirting and dealing with groupies." He rolled his eyes a little, and although he thought he caught an impatient tap from her, just one fingertip on the table, he didn't think it was anything significant. "That's probably harder on a whole new level. The flirting - I am making it clear to them that they are just flat out going to have to cope with the fact that there's flirting and hugging and kissing going on." He frowned thoughtfully. "I'm not going to repress my own personality, or the image that I've built. I'm hoping that this will be understood, since they're poly, you know? But the other half of that…"

He paused, feeling even more uncertain. Tess used the break to refill his water glass, and her own teacup.  _Huh,_ he thought, watching her do that.  _Maybe the interview isn't over after all._

"That's going to involve trust," he said, looking up at her. He hoped she would understand. "All I can do is be honest with them. And frankly… oh god, I know it sounds petty. But they're teenagers, and they've got roaming eyes. Already, just since Christmas, there's been drama with a new person in the - the matrix of them. So I feel like they need to be just as honest with me." He laughed ruefully, rubbing his neck. "Except I'll be in the gossip rags and entertainment news. They're learning to cope with that aspect of it. I don't think it'll be easy, but... still worth it, I think."

She rose, coming around to sit in the chair next to his. It was close enough that she had no trouble reaching over and resting a hand on top of his.

"No, it won't be easy," she murmured. "I know too many individuals in the spotlight to tell you tales on that subject. And I also know a greater number of individuals who need to keep themselves hidden. Sweetheart, just tell Kurt and Noah how much you love them. Tell them how important it is for you to be loud and proud, and that any big declaration is going to have consequences. I think they're bright young men, and that they'll understand, hmm?"

He felt himself struggle with tears, and he tried not to wonder what her grey eyes were seeing in him, because he was pretty sure it was important. Finally, he managed to nod and murmur a thank you. Her smile was gentle.

"I think it is time for you to go find your boys and bring them down for breakfast. James has prepared a wonderful meal with which to celebrate. And this afternoon, I hear you have an impromptu concert prepared for us?"

"Well, Noah and I have been working on a song together, but it seems like everybody else has something prepared, too? So it looks like we'll have a little jam. Is there a place where we could do that?"

"Oh, I suspect the whole family will want to be there to listen," she agreed, "so I'll make sure the stage is free. The acoustics are very good, and you may use the sound equipment that's set up for the Shakespeare performers. It will be a delight to have a performance before you fly home."

Her words rang in his ears as he made his way back upstairs.  _Fly home._  The conversation with Tess had been good, if a little unnerving, and Adam wasn't going to wallow in disappointment when there were so many other good things happening. But he couldn't help feel a pang of sadness at the idea that their time together was almost at an end.

* * *

Tess paused in the hallway when she saw Stephen coming out of the conservatory. "Is everything set for breakfast?"

Stephen smirked at Tess, and she put a hand over her mouth, trying not to giggle, turning away from him slightly and failing entirely as James rounded the corner. His face lit up, and he stepped forward to wrap a strong arm around her shoulders.

"You've got to get it together, girl, there's a herd of them on the stairs, though they're being awfully slow about it - Burt's lecturing, and the boys are trying to listen, and Adam and Carl are trying to be all Toppish and stern, and I don't believe any of them for a moment... and if you're  _giggling_ … do I need to take charge, here?"

"James Robins," she said severely.

James nodded. "Much better, wouldn't you say, Stephen?"

"As I was about to say,  _ma'am,"_  Stephen said with emphasis on her title. "The small dining room is set in pairs, Burt with Carole, Carl with Finn, Adam with Kurt, Jacob with Timothy, and Puck with his sister."

"But you, mistress, are coming with us," James told her with satisfaction.

Tess looked surprised for a moment, but it quickly faded as the family entered, laughing and talking. Stephen moved into gracious action, guiding each pair to their tables and handing them a card with the morning menu on it.

She paused at Burt and Carole's spot in the dining room, smiling at Puck and Sarah seated by the window.

"I hope you enjoy your meal," she said to Burt. "Are you feeling more settled today?"

"As settled as a fellow can be when his son's attempting to persuade him for permission to get a  _tattoo."_ Burt looked somewhat sheepish. "I'm sorry, again, for last night. I've had a lot of revelations all at once."

"Quite so," Tess agreed. "And let me assure you that no one is assuming you will give the boys permission for such an act. It is entirely up to the two of you."

Carole looked as though she wanted to say something in return, but instead she took her napkin and placed it on her lap, looking across the room to where Adam and Kurt were holding hands across their table. Tess followed her gaze.

"They're both in good company, I think. I met with Adam this morning, and I am satisfied regarding his responsibility toward the boys."

Burt nodded. "Yeah, I think I've come to terms with what's going on there, as much as I can. And Puck…"

"I will be following up with him," she assured him. "His needs are complicated, but I have faith in his willingness to ask for help, from you as well as from those in charge of him."

He blinked up at her. "You — you knew about that? About him being the… that Kurt was —" He shook his head, looking frustrated. "I don't know the right words."

"I think you, too, will need to ask for help," Tess murmured, looking pointedly at Carole. She dropped her eyes to her napkin and nodded.

"I can do that," she said.

"Limits are personal, Burt. No one but you may decide when you have had enough, and there is no shame in announcing to the world that you are  _done._ " She chuckled. "Even someone Sarah's age can benefit from learning safe limits. What do you think Lydia's been teaching her with the horses?"

That was apparently another surprise, but the expression on Burt's face was thoughtful rather than distressed when she returned to the hallway to be led to her own Valentine's Day breakfast.

* * *

"I'm glad at least three of you got some more sleep after I left," Carl said, seating himself across from Finn.

"Yeah, Adam didn't stay too long. I guess he wanted to talk to Tess." He squirmed a little as he sat down on the hard chair. Carl's eyes danced, though his face remained solemn.

"Are you wearing it?"

"Yeah," he whispered.

"The vibrating one?"

Finn nodded, trying not to squirm again.

"I'm glad to know the vibration had such an effect on you." Carl took a large spoonful of sugar from the bowl and added it to Finn's coffee, stirring thoroughly before adding a generous helping of cream. "It's not meant to be arousing, but I can see how it  _could_  be."

He rolled his eyes a little. "I don't know if I can  _keep_  it from being arousing."

Carl shrugged. "I can definitely think of ways to control for that, if you reach a point where it becomes a problem. But I think this weekend has already been arousing enough that I don't have to worry about that too much. The intent is to refine your control over stimulation, Finn, not to get off on it."

That made so much sense that Finn sat there with his barely-palatable coffee in both hands for several long moments, staring into space. He tried to seize the experience of _stimulation,_  and how he might control it. That ended up being even more arousing. He squirmed again.

"That's something I can do for you when I can't use my hands."

"Do… for me?"

Carl nodded. "I can imagine a time when my voice might not be enough. You may need additional motivation when you're outside the range of my influence."

Finn suppressed a nervous laugh. "The range of your influence. Like… at school? The remote's signal would never —"

"Cellular," Carl said serenely. He sipped his own black coffee. "It would work from my house to yours. I don't think I would choose to interrupt your studies, but perhaps Glee club. Or basketball practice."

Finn choked on his sip, eyes widening at Carl. "You wouldn't."

"Not unless you gave consent, no," Carl agreed. "This isn't me pushing you around. I'm trying to bring out your basest desires, not to humiliate you or throw you off course. A Top gets rejected five dozen times during each scene. You need to be ready to harness that energy, to  _use_  it."

Carl reached one hand down to his pocket and slipped a hand inside. Finn tried not to stare at his pocket, because he was watching Carl for cues, and he wasn't supposed to be anticipating things like that anyway, and — he set down his cup before he managed to spill it all over the plate, and took a shaky breath.

"Relax, my boy."

Finn nodded, attempting to follow Carl's directive. "Yeah. Sorry. I — I think that would be amazing, and I'm still freaking out a little. I don't want to do it wrong."

"I won't let you," Carl soothed. "You have the right to say no, at any time. And it's my job to guide you, and help you when you feel overwhelmed. One thing you can do is to try to distract your mind, when it's so strongly focused on that one thing that you can't function."

Finn's hands fumbled a biscuit from the basket on the table, and he spread it thickly with butter without really thinking about it. "How do I do that?"

"Lots of ways. We've had a good weekend here, haven't we?"

Finn nodded, grinning. "Yeah. Really good."

"It's Valentine's Day, and you have two of your boys here with you. What about the last one? Are you going to call him today?"

"Oh—" He closed his lips on the name  _Blaine._ "I don't think he would expect that from me. What we're doing, it's not…  _romantic._ "

"Perhaps not." Carl shrugged, taking another drink. "He's a special person in your life, though… he might benefit from a call when you get home, in any case. I never missed a call to Tess on Valentine's Day."

"Same difference," said Finn. Carl gave him a curious look.

"Are you implying my relationship with Tess wasn't a romantic one?"

"Well, yeah, but…" Finn began, then paused, feeling an uneasy jab of realization. "Are you saying it  _was?"_

"It wasn't all that long ago. I'm surprised you didn't realize that already." He reached out a hand across the table, leaving it open for Finn to take. Eventually, Finn did, holding it tightly. Carl was still watching him with careful compassion. "Finn, you know I've had relationships with women as well as men."

"I know," he insisted, "I do know. I just —" He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I just never thought about Tess like that. It surprised me. I don't have any right to judge you for any relationship you've had. Or have."

"You have the  _right_  to have whatever feelings you have,"Carl said, "and to tell me about them, if you choose, so I may help you deal with them constructively."

That made him feel a little better. "Okay." He glanced up nervously. "Do you… are the two of you… still?"

"No. That's part of our past. She's my mentor and my friend, and she gives me the very best care I could ask for." Carl didn't let go of his hand, looking into his eyes. "I haven't had any other lovers since I met you. Which is not to say I won't, Finn."

"I know. I mean, jeez. Look at  _me._ " Finn glanced around the room, at Puck talking with Sarah, at Kurt and Adam feeding one another bites of egg, and shrugged helplessly. Carl smiled.

"Monogamy was never part of our agreement, true. Still, I would accord you the courtesy of letting you know about any other individuals who might happen to make a place in my heart."

"Like you did about Tess?" The words just slipped out, not exactly petulant, but in such a pointed tone that Finn was sure he couldn't pretend they hadn't been meant exactly the way he'd meant them. Carl's eyebrow went up.

"She was in my heart long before you met me. Before you were born."

"I'm sorry," Finn said immediately, hiding his eyes, "god, yes, I'm sorry. It's fine."

"Finn," Carl said softly. Finn closed his eyes rather than be forced to look away.

"I'm — it's stupid. Stupid to be jealous of you and anybody from your past, or anybody you want to see now, but… I am. I'm totally stupidly jealous of an imaginary person."

"Finn." This time it was said more sharply. Finn's eyes snapped open. He saw Burt and his mom looking over at them with wary concern, and gave them a weak little smile and a wave. Carl sighed. "I understand. I do. Jealousy is insidious, and irrational, and it preys on all of us, Finn. I imagine it's impossible to have more than one friend or lover without sometimes feeling jealous. That's not a fault. The fault would lie in your inability to forgive yourself, and move on."

Finn nodded, trying to breathe. "Okay. Yeah."

"With whom am I eating breakfast on Valentine's Day?"

"Me," he admitted.

"And with whom did I spend the night last night?"

"Well, all of us, actually." But he was grinning into his coffee, feeling the heat creeping up his neck. "That was pretty amazing. And I wasn't jealous at all."

"You have no reason to be, my boy."

Carl seldom used that tender tone with him, the one that made him feel completely useless in the best possible way, and never in front of so many people before. He could tell they were all very deliberately not watching. It made him blush harder, especially when Carl stood up a little to reach forward and cup his cheek. Finn squirmed away.

"Don't fight it," Carl murmured, gripping his neck where it met his shoulder, and Finn didn't mean to, but he was so nervous and  _so_  embarrassed that not pulling back seemed impossible. Which was almost certainly why Carl slipped forward and leaned his hip against the edge of the table — and hit the button on the remote.

The sound of a vibrating butt plug, when amplified by the hard surface of Tessera's wooden parquet chairs, in the midst of five very quiet conversations, was easily as loud as an espresso machine. That's the way it felt to Finn, at least, as he sat there, scrambling to move his chair back and  _get up for god's sake get up._ He nearly knocked over the entire table in the process.

"Oh my god," he heard Kurt murmur, completely aghast, just as Puck started snickering. Finn saw the face of his mother, the flash of startled recognition in her eyes — and then Burt's head came down, impacting with the table with a loud  _thud._

By this time Carl had managed to get a hand inside his tight trouser pocket to switch off the remote, his own face as red as Finn had ever seen it. Finn held himself up with a tight grip on the table, willing himself not to pass out from embarrassment.

"Burt," his mom said, sounding more worried than upset. Burt's shoulders were shaking. When he sat back, he was shielding his face with his hand.

" _I… give… up,"_  he said, loudly and distinctly. He turned to look at Finn and Carl. It was then that Finn finally saw the expression on his face. He was — laughing?

"Dad," Kurt said, attempting to rise from his own seat, but Burt waved him back down.

"Do you know what? This whole damn weekend has been TMI, and I'm through with worrying about it. I'm going to have to figure out how to be the mature one here. Finn?"

Finn swallowed on a bone-dry throat. "Sir?"

"You're fine. Okay? It's all  _fine,_  and —" Burt was laughing again, shaking his head. "I don't even know what else to say, except… let's eat our breakfast?"

Puck was laughing out loud now, too, and although Sarah looked mystified, she was grinning. Adam was holding his breath, trying valiantly not to dissolve into hilarity, and Kurt appeared to be waffling between scandalized and amused. Finn made eye contact with his mother, just briefly, before returning his gaze fixedly to his coffee.

"I think that wins for the most embarrassing moment ever," he whispered hoarsely.

"We're among friends, Finn," Carl said. His face was still red, but he was smiling.

"No." Finn ducked his head lower, trying not to cringe. "We're among  _family."_

* * *

Alec could hear them murmuring out in the hall, shuffling around with all the subtlety of a miniature herd of buffalo, but he didn't open the door to admit them until he had every tool out of the autoclave and on a sheet of sterile cloth.

The father - Burt - was the one who greeted him at the door. "We in the right place?" he said, his voice a little gruff. "I wouldn't want to interrupt anything if we weren't." Burt's eyes came up to meet Alec's, and he could read the worry and concern there easily.

"You're in the right place. And I see you've brought the waivers?"

Burt grimaced. "Signed, sealed and delivered," he quipped. "By both me and Carole, for good measure. I don't have any tattoos of my own, and I was hoping for a little reassurance here."

Alec accepted the papers, carefully, looking through them, giving the man the opportunity to study the room behind himself, and to observe the care he was taking. Tattooing minors was always chancy, but with both parents agreeing, and Tess observing, they'd be fine.

"Everything looks good. All right. Step on in," he commanded, easing back to stand between the boys and the tray he'd carefully prepared.

Three very wide-eyed boys filed one by one into Room Seven, shooed in by Tess, and trailed by Carl and Adam. The room definitely wasn't built to hold this many people at once, and Alec frowned.

"I will stay with the boys, Alec," Tess ordered. "Demonstrate for Burt and the gentlemen how you will proceed. I expect a physical demonstration of disinfection procedures, on one volunteer." She narrowed her eyes at Carl, who sighed and stepped forward, and Alec snorted.

"Not like you've never done this in this chair," Alec grumbled, rolling his eyes at the younger man. "Shirt off."

"You aren't going to -"

"The lady said demonstrate," Alec said, with an amused glance up at Tess. "That means we demonstrate."

He pulled out a straight razor, slapped shaving cream onto Carl's chest, and shaved clear the area that the boys had identified for him. The work left wide margin of skin clean and bare - not that it would be as much of an issue for the teenagers. And it did give him a chance to get Carl's goat a little; it was fair repayment in kind for a practical joke of Carl's years ago.

"Clear area," he said calmly, watching Carl sit patiently. He was especially amused by the lack of expression on Carl's face. "Alcohol swabs once, then I change gloves, and then swab a second time. My working surface was disinfected the same way, and there's five trays - five sets of inks and needles prepped. Different ink and different needle for each boy," he said, with an amused glance at Carl. " There'll be blood, no limit of sterile cloths to wipe it away. I finish up, the tat gets covered with antibacterial lotion, then bandaged. Then." Alec glowered threateningly at the boys. "Wait twenty-four hours before those bandages come off. Anyone who peeks should see Mistress Tess, who'll have her quirt out for me. Then care for it like you would a bad sunburn, for a couple weeks. If it gets infected, I get called thirty seconds after you call your family doctor. Make sense?"

Burt nodded, looking a little ill. "Yes. Thank you."

"Good. Might as well start with Carl here, then. Whoever needs to be with him, park it there," he ordered, pointing at a bench. "And the rest of you beat it - wait out in the hallway lounge, the door will stay open, so you'll be able to hear," Alec said. "Fewer bodies, fewer germs." Tess had to turn away to smile a little. Burt raised an eyebrow at the boys, and Kurt, Adam, and Puck stepped aside. "And if you've got questions, Burt, Lambert and Jesse there both have tats, you can ask the two of them."

The two young Tops drooped as Burt's keen eye fixed on them. Alec could hear him beginning to ask questions of Adam even as they walked out of the room. And then Alec turned to Carl and his boy.

"Wait," said Kurt, holding up a hand. He looked hesitantly at Alec, standing in the doorway. "Can we have music? I mean... I think there should be music."

"Absolutely, so long as I don't find it distracting. What've you got in mind, kid?"

The slender boy pulled an iPod out of his pocket and thumbed through it. "Something meditative? Chopin? Jacob told me Gaga plays Chopin when she's getting ready to write something new."

Alec let them fuss with the music, pointing out the connector cable attached to the stereo receiver and warning Kurt about the volume before shooing them out at last. Then he turned to Carl, meeting the other Top's eyes evenly, staring hard at him, asking the silent question.  _Are you definite on this? Last chance._

He grinned when Carl gave him a nod, seeing the corner of Carl's mouth quirked in a smile.

"All right. Let me disinfect this again, Carl, and you settle in there - your boy can sit to the opposite side there, if you want. You know how to handle him." Alec swung the tray around, finishing his prep. Finn took a seat, watching with furrowed eyebrows, but Carl just smiled.

"This'll be easy," he said. "Not a whole lot different from the single-tail, actually."

Alec laid the transfer against Carl's skin, giving him a hand mirror to check the placement of the design and confirming with Finn before it became permanent. Finn looked a little more excited when he saw the purple outline on Carl's clean-shaven skin.

Carl watched gravely as Alec brought the needle to his skin, starting it buzzing, and made the first cut. The dark line beaded blood, but Alec wiped it away as he went over each line of the triplet again, then outlined the musical notes carefully before filling them in. The details — the tied triplet notation, and the added marks — were last.

"So what's the fermata for again?" he asked casually, padding away the blood again. At his nod, Tess disposed of the used gauze, laying a new stack out, freshly out of the package. He could see that she was double gloved, and made a note to ask her about it later. He loved seeing her in the white lab coat, and he could see Carl watching her as well.

"That's for Adam," Carl said calmly. "The accent's for me. They wanted to use a sharp, but I vetoed that. And Finn's the dotted note, because he's a little older than the other kids. Um, the other two."

Looking up to grab another gauze square, Alec caught Tess winking at Carl, trying not to smile.

"It's okay." Finn grinned at him. "You can call me a kid. I know it's all relative." He looked up at Alec. "My mom decided me and my tantrums should repeat first grade. It worked out, though, because me and Puck ended up in the same grade, and... you know."

Alec saw Carl blink at that information, and recognized the familiar sight of Carl stifling either a question or a comment. Not that Finn noticed, his eyes fixed on the action of the tattooing needle. He wondered if he should have his own conversation with Carl before they left.

"All right." Alec briskly dabbed the oozing tattoo with ointment, then handed Carl the mirror again. "How's it look?"

Carl smiled, nodding. "Perfect."

He taped a square of gauze over the spot, not skimping on the tape, and passed him his shirt. "One down, four to go. Finn?" He waited for Finn to get settled in the chair and Carl to be dressed, then handed Carl the straight razor. "You want to do the honors?"

Finn's expression was amusingly worshipful, Alec thought, watching the way Carl smiled encouragingly at his boy. He readied the new tray, pulling the shrink wrap off, and was settled by the time Carl dropped the razor in the sharps box. Alec wasn't worried about this boy, who confidently put his palm into Carl's hand, holding on and squeezing as Alec begin. Finn was very nearly as stoic as Carl normally was, save for a few startled winces which Carl quickly soothed out of him.

Finn held up a hand before he could get the ointment on, though. "Would you call Puck? Let him see, before you do that?"

"Tess?" Alec looked up, and she nodded as she went to the door to lean out a little, her sterile hands held up in front of her as a reminder as she called for  _Noah_. The sound of the bounding footsteps was amusing, and the bright eyed brat appeared in the doorway.

"Fuck," Puck breathed, eyes on Finn's chest. He looked quickly at Tess. "Uh - I mean, sorry, it's just - can Kurt see?"

"Kurt can see yours," Finn said. His voice was firm, now, just as Carl's had been, and Alec hid his smile to see the way Puck responded to it, walking in to stand beside Finn in a subtly subservient pose.

"Puck next," Alex asked casually, and at that, Carl rose.

"I'll just call the others," he said, shrugging on his shirt. Before he left, Carl rested a hand on Puck's shoulder, at which the boy settled down a little. Alec gave him a wink, and ignored the discussion between Finn and his boy as he worked.

Alec liked the way Adam entered the room, commanding everyone's attention immediately. Puck, who had been fidgeting in the chair, though he was listening closely to Finn, settled down completely with no more than a single word from the singer.

Alec enjoyed the way Puck's eyes fluttered at the first touch of the needle. The boy was floating by the time he was through. He was a masochist, for sure. Kurt, on the other hand, was getting more wound up with every gauze pad that passed through Alec's hands. Alec had Tess escort Puck to one of the chairs in the back of the room, behind a half curtain, and sit him down with crackers and juice, asking Finn to sit with him.

It took him that amount of time to get the downy fuzz shaved from Kurt's chest, and he was sitting with his needle bar in hand, contemplating asking Adam to run interference, when Adam reached across, a hand firmly cupping Kurt's jawline, and turning the boy's head to look away from the bare patch of pale skin, and into Adam's eyes.

"Kurt," Adam said softly.

That was all the boy needed. Kurt immediately stilled, and Alec began, allowing time for the first flinch of surprise.

He was able to work swiftly and precisely - he couldn't ever remember a time he'd done a quintuple on a design in one sitting before - and it was over quickly enough. Kurt was alert and aware, meeting Alec's eyes as he softly repeated the care instructions, being more careful than usual to warn that there might be blood when the gauze was changed tomorrow.

Last of all, Adam slid into Alec's chair, looking up with eyes that were just as startling a blue as Kurt's, but deeper and more vivid than the younger boy's.

"I'm ready," he said, the smooth contralto of his speaking voice confident and even a little eager.

"You'll have to tell me about your ink, if you get the chance," Alec murmured to Adam, readying his needle bar. "But for now, just focus on your boy." He'd seen Kurt out of the corner of his eye, raising a hand to cover his new bandage lightly, as Alec lowered the implement to Adam's chest.

There was a delighted sigh from Adam as Alec began, and this time Alec actually smiled as he worked, proceeding distinctly more slowly on this one than he had the previous. He caught Adam eyeing the work, and began to murmur to him as he worked, talking through the musical terms as he worked them into and under the boy's skin. Adam's breathing was steady and sure and even, and it was with a familiar pang of regret that Alec finished the design. It was always difficult to finish a tattoo, but this one was affecting him more than most. He stared at it on Adam's pale freckled chest, noting how one of the freckles created a shadow on the dot of the fermata, as if it wished to linger longer than it ought to.

And then his hands were going through the usual steps of applying ointment, and a final bandage. Tess' hand stilled his own, as he reached for the last piece of tape.

"May I," she asked in an undertone, and glad for the release, Alec nodded.

Tess leaned forward, and applied the tape with a little more pressure than usual, carefully watching Adam's reaction, the caught breath, and the smile.

"I'll expect you to take care of these," she said, tapping just above the bandage, with her index finger. "Do you understand?"

"Yes ma'am," he managed, before he had an arm full of Kurt, soothing the tears out of Kurt's eyes. He held the shaking reaction of his own boy, the body and soul of him, letting the emotional reaction play out as he rocked Kurt gently until he was calm again.

Alec exchanged a look with Tess, and she nodded at the doorway. He knew damn well what that meant. He rose, and stripped his gloves off, depositing them in the trash on his way out the door.

The lounge was only a few steps away, an open alcove strewn with comfortable couches and chairs, and he approached to see the four of them waiting with anticipation. Carl was holding up the top of things. Finn leaned on Tess' boy, and Puck leaned on Finn - and that left Burt, who was observing the proceedings with watchful eyes.

The couch was full of closed eyes and comfort, so Alec was able to murmur to Burt without alerting anyone other than Carl.

"He's okay," Burt muttered. "Please tell me-?"

"He's okay," Alec reassured. "He's just a little overwrought, that's all. Tess thought that maybe your presence might calm him down more quickly. Adam's doing a fine job, but you're his dad, and he loves and respects you."

Burt made a choking noise, but Alec ignored it. He led them back to Room Seven.

Burt went straight to his son, laying a hand on Kurt's back. "Hey, buddy. You think you can let your old dad know you're okay?"

Alec watched with sympathy, going to assist Tess with the used trays, placing instruments into the autoclave and ignoring the fact that Burt sounded choked with tears himself.

Kurt's blue eyes peeked up, after a minute of Burt's hand on his shoulder. "Dad? I… I'm okay - I'm sorry, I'm being silly, it just felt like so much -"

"Kurt. we talked about this," Burt said anxiously. "It can be removed."

" _No,"_  Kurt said firmly. Adam placed a warning pat on his hip - not, Alec thought, that Burt would recognize it as such. "I love it, and I'm keeping it forever, because I never want to forget how wonderful this has been. This, just the way it is."

"Okay," Burt soothed, as Kurt moved over into Burt's arms, "okay, that's fine."

"Thank you, dad," Kurt sobbed, clinging tighter. "Thank you  _so much_  for letting me have this."

There was nothing more than a smile on the singer's face, and Alec thought there might be one on Burt's as well.

"You're done here," he said, handing Adam the sheaf of aftercare recommendations. "Make sure everybody gets one of these, and follows it to the letter. You're all going to be flying for a while on the endorphins, so take it easy, and be aware there will be a crash in about six hours."

"Just in time to drive home," said Burt with a sigh. "Well, I guess I expected everybody to come home from this vacation exhausted."

Alec grunted. "Easier to drive with sleeping teenagers," he suggested.

"We'll have enough adults to take care of the job," Burt agreed. "All right, you heard the man. Everybody back to your rooms. Enforced rest period."

"It'll give us a chance to relax before the closing concert," Adam told Kurt, soothing his irritation. "We've already done plenty here. It's almost time to go home."

As the boys filed out, Adam turned to Alec once more, offering his hand.

"Thanks," he said. "This was... meaningful. I doubt anybody outside this group will ever know about this tattoo, but I'll know, and that's enough."

"There's secret, and there's private," Alec agreed, shaking Adam's hand. "It can be either one. Tats might be fun to show off, but when it comes right down to it, they aren't for anybody but yourself."


	7. Sunday, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah reacts to the tattoos. Timothy makes a break for it, scares the horses, and is caught by Tess. Adam and everyone else give a concert before everyone heads back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to flinchflower for Sarah’s new lyrics — the peabrain strikes in unexpected ways sometimes! Puck’s old lyrics were written back in Waking Dreams by songirl77. All other song credits can be found at the end. Warnings in this chapter for discussion of discipline and angst, along with lots of singing. So, so much schmoop.
> 
> -amy

Alec looked up from the engine compartment of his car later that day to see a small fury standing before him. It was Puck’s sister, Sarah.  Her curls were riotous, her face flushed, small fists on her hips and booted foot tapping.  Her stance was worthy of of Tess.

“Hi there,” he remarked, grabbing a shop towel and wiping his hands down.

“You gave them all  _tattoos?”_  she accused.  “Tatenui is going to  _freak out.”_

“Nope,” Alec told her.  He patted the workbench.  “Hop up here, short stuff, so we can talk eye to eye.”

Sarah scowled at him, but hoisted herself up easily, ignoring the hand which Alec held out to assist her.

“Sweet,” he said easily, smiling at her.  He was dark and handsome, and Sarah scowled even more thoroughly. “I want you to know that your Tatenui had to sign papers and give his permission.  He’s not going to freak out.  I’m not that stupid,  _t’kras rena.”_

“He did, huh,” Sarah said doubtfully.  “And — what did you say?”

“It’s Creole.   My mama grew up in Haiti, came to New York as a girl.  Little fox, little sneak.” He shrugged, ignoring the pleased flush that grew over her face.  “You have questions?”

She thought before asking, “Did it hurt?”

“Maybe just a minute worth of being stung by something nasty, but not more than that.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Can I have one too?”

Alec grinned at her.  “If Burt says you can.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed.  “I’m  _eleven._   What do you think his answer’s going to be?”

“I agree.”  He contemplated her for a moment.  “Although...”

“What?”

“We could do a little something for you, maybe,  _rena._   It’ll wash off - eventually.  Like, maybe weeks.”

“Do it,” she demanded, without a thought.  

He nudged her over far enough to be able to open the drawer in the workbench she was seated on, and came up with an extra fine point Sharpie marker, jiggling it in the air like a conductor’s baton.  “You want the same thing they have?”

“Yes please.  Except…”  She paused.  “How do we put  _me_  into it?  The design they chose, it’s all about the five of them.”

Alec sketched it out on a piece of paper, showing her.   And then he put a half set of something that looked like whiskers on the middle note in the triplet.

“Not quite full grown whiskers.  Makes that note’s life a little shorter, maybe, but smart-assed kids are made to give their brothers grief, aren’t they?”

Her response looked like a scowl, but Alec could tell she was pleased by the way she traced the design with her fingers. When she nodded, he wasn’t surprised. He smiled at her, leaning in with the Sharpie.  

“Where’s it going to go?” he asked.

Sarah glanced down at her chest, then swept her curls off her neck, holding them up far enough for him to access the base of her skull. “Right here,” she said decisively. “Easy to hide, and just as easy to catch sight of ‘accidentally.’”

“You sure?” 

“Yeah. But don’t tell Noah. Let’s see if he notices.”

* * *

 

It had never been clearer to Carl that Tessera was home than it had been this weekend. Here, he could be comfortable like he was nowhere else. Here, he barely considered what was going on around him, and simply trusted the rest of his family to take care of things, while he allowed Finn to become his focus.

Even now, when they were both occupied with other activities, it felt incredibly indulgent to have this time with him. They had been sitting in the library leaning against one another for at least a half hour, fingers brushing while Carl finished client paperwork from the dental office and Finn and Kurt read together. It felt so  _good_  to not have to worry about who was watching or what they might think. Every now and then, Finn would glance over at him, and his amazed, grateful expression told Carl he felt something similar. Kurt’s presence on his other side was no distraction, holding loosely to Finn’s knee as he leaned over to turn the pages in their book.

Carl hadn’t asked what the book was, but it seemed to be some kind of love story told in letters. Occasionally Finn or Kurt would open an envelope and draw out an actual paper letter, taking turns reading each one aloud. Kurt read the part of someone named Griffin, and Finn was Sabine. Kurt read with dramatic expression, which didn’t surprise Carl, but he  _was_  surprised to discover that Finn was equally expressive. It was an unexpected delight to hear the subtleties of his reading come through in each hesitation and well-timed phrase. Clearly Kurt felt the same way. Every now and then, he’d reach over and brush his fingers over Finn’s chest, where the bandage protected his tattoo, and Finn’s hand would absently come up to cover Kurt’s fingers.

Suddenly, the peace was interrupted by a cacophony of jumbled shouts and falling furniture, mixed with uncharacteristic curses and shouted directives. Carl sat up, hearing Jacob call the name  _Timothy._

“What’s going on?” Finn said, but Carl was already on his feet, heading for the hallway. Two of Tess’ security agents thundered by, followed closely by Phillip and Jacob. Carl reached for Jacob with both arms, restraining him before he could get any further.

“You’re not on duty,” he said, but Jacob shook his head, his mouth tight.

“This isn’t duty. At least not the kind I get paid for. It’s Timothy. He’s making a run for it.”

“A run for what?” Finn looked completely confused.

“For anything except here,” Kurt sighed, giving Jacob a sympathetic grimace. “It’s not your fault, you know.”

“It has nothing to do with fault. He’s my responsibility.” Jacob’s face was sour. “Don’t get me wrong, I know where this all comes from, but... Timothy’s done this more than once in the past month. We’ve made agreements. He knows I’m not going to put up with this shit here any more than I would at home.”

Finn’s expression cleared. “You mean he’s resisting.”  

“You bet your ass he’s resisting.” Jacob took a couple steps backward down the hall, his eyes pleading with them to understand. “I’m sorry, I can’t -- I have to go after him.”

“All right, go, go,” Carl sighed, and Jacob followed after the security agents at a run.  

Finn’s hand clasped Carl’s, his eyes tracking Jacob’s location long after he’d vanished. “Maybe we should go too? Adam and Puck said they were busy until the concert, and… I’d feel better if we could do something to help.”

“I doubt there’s anything we can do that Phillip and the rest of Tessera’s security couldn’t do better.” But Carl was already walking down the hall toward the double doors through which Timothy had burst, heading outside.  

Kurt followed them, looking uncertain. “Should we tell Tess? She keeps saying to come to her if something’s wrong?”

“Oh, I’m absolutely sure she already knows,” said Carl.  

He held the door open for Finn and Kurt, into the service hallway they’d been using as a shortcut all weekend. The door to the loading dock was standing ajar. He surveyed the scattered footprints in the slush on the concrete just outside, the surface slightly icy. No one had fallen in their haste, no matter how desperate Timmy had been to get away.  

“He took the shortest route,” Carl told them, pointing toward the safety rail off the dock. He trotted over to it, judging the distance carefully, then vaulted the six-foot drop to the snow. Finn made a little noise, gripping the safety rail where Carl’s hand had rested. Carl gestured at the open space behind Tessera’s property line. “There’s nothing but outbuildings, the garage and the stables before he’d hit the pine forest. It’s dense; he won’t get far. Come on.”

It wasn’t until they crossed into the second field that they caught sight of Timmy and the four men following him. The trail of footprints headed past the stables, running along the most open and snow-free pathway.  A horse’s high and frightened whinny rang out as the three hurried past the white fencing of the Tessera corrals, and they heard Lydia call out in response.  The older woman was shrugging into a heavy jacket, even as she was placing a guiding hand on Sarah, helping her slide a familiar camouflage coat over her thin arms.

“The stable hands are done for the day,” Lydia was saying to Sarah, “and I’m probably going to need help.” 

Judging by the chaos in the corral, she was probably right. Sarah’s eyes were wide, but she nodded, taking over putting on the jacket and buttoning it against the cold, pulling her gloves out of the pocket of her hoodie as she followed.

There were two horses rearing and neighing in panic, making short runs at the fences, and it looked like the bigger one was going to try to jump. Lydia yanked a pair of nylon lead reins off the outside rack on the barn, and handed one to Sarah with a frown, then digging into her pocket for a pair of leather gloves.

“Put those on. Those knit ones won’t be enough if the lead gets yanked out of your hands; that hurts.”

Sarah still didn’t say anything, watching, and looking a little longer at the treeline, where they could see the figures crossing toward the woods. She took a deep breath, and went where Lydia led her.

Carl drew to a halt beside the stable, and the boys stopped beside him. “I don’t think we’re going to be much help at this point. As soon as Phillip’s men have recovered Timothy, they’ll head back this way, and we can intercept and do what we can then.”

One of the horses stopped when Lydia whistled, and came prancing nervously with rolling eyes when Lydia gave the peculiar little call that she used for the horses at Tessera. The bigger horse was still racing between the short distance of the rails at either side, shying at the fence, and stopping dead before racing off again.  Kurt took a couple steps back.   

The cinnamon brown and speckled horse snorted, and tried to yank away from Lydia, but the horsewoman had the halter in her hand in a lightning grip, and snapped the lead onto it. Then she turned to Sarah.

“Here. Stand next to the gate, Sarah. If she gets more upset, and you can’t hold her, you let go of the lead, and go out the gate. Understand?”

“Got it.” Carl watched as Sarah took the short lead from Lydia, visibly steeling herself, and Lydia lifted the other lead that she held out of her hands. 

“Anything we can do to help?” he called.

“Wait,” she told him tersely, watching the horses. “Here, if you want, but none of you are dressed for those woods. Tess’d have your hide if you took them back there without boots and jackets proper.”  Lydia uncoiled the lead as she spoke, and then turned her attention back to Sarah and the cinnamon horse.

“Both hands on the lead, one near her halter, one near the end of the lead,” she told Sarah, and started towards the dappled grey who was whinnying impossibly loud.  “If she rears, let go the one near her head, and lean back, both hands on the end of the lead — talk to her, Sarah. And then go hand over hand until you get yourself in the same position. She needs to be able to move, okay, but not away from you.”

Sarah looked up at the mare. “Hi, cinnamon,” she said.  She was big, the horse’s back was taller than her head, but the horse had slender little delicate legs, and a small face that looked worried. “I’ve got you,” she assured. “Don’t worry. We can go in and have carrots in a minute, when Lydia goes inside to get your friend. I’m Sarah, cinnamon lady. Hi.”   

Carl knew almost nothing about equine management, but the mare was clearly dancing less and less as she talked, and starting to lean in to her. She whuffled at the front of Sarah’s barn jacket, yanking her head up periodically to get a better look at the girl.   

Finn grinned, watching her work. “She’s kind of awesome at this, huh?”

Kurt looked equally amused. “I’m reminded of the early morning at Pat’s when you suggested Sarah might be good at handling people… the way you do.”

“Did, you mean,” Finn corrected. “The way I used to.”

Kurt smiled up at him, shaking his head. “Still do.”

Carl could hear Sarah speaking quite clearly. “Lydia says that the best way to handle you guys is to put your whole attention on you, so you know I’m watching out for you.” Sarah seemed to be relaxing as she talked, her eyes fixed on the horse,though it looked to Carl as if she were listening for Lydia. She shifted from foot to foot. “It’s cold, cinnamon lady.  You don’t look too cold, huh?” The horse finally pricked her ears, taking small, cautious steps closer, until she lowered her head to butt her forehead against Sarah’s chest.  Sarah promptly let go of the lead rein with her right hand, where it had been close to the horse’s halter, and rubbed at the soft ears and forehead that were pressed up against her, still talking, but much more quietly now, too quietly for Carl to hear her words.

And then he noticed the snorting of another horse, closer, the cinnamon horse raised her head abruptly, and Sarah got her hand back on the lead rein like Lydia had said.   

Lydia materialized beside her. “Good job, Sarah. Let go near her head, let them touch noses, let her tell him it’s okay. Partnership is important, even for horses. They need to communicate without interference.”

The horses did just that, to Carl’s amazement. Lydia patted at the flank of the big grey, taking a step back as he tried to lean on her, his skin quivering and steaming in the cold air.

“Wow,” Sarah said, looking as surprised as Carl felt.

Lydia just smiled. “Since you’ve got a hand free, go ahead and open the gate. You can lead Cardamom to the stable, I think they’ll feel better tucked up in their stalls.  I’ve walked him cool, for the most part.”

“He looks hot,” Sarah commented, guiding the mare through the opening in the metal fence.

Lydia nodded. “Yes. He’s had enough calm walking that his legs aren’t hot, he won’t be uncomfortable - but he’s still lathered, sweaty, and the sweat’s going to steam like that. Watch me now.” She led the grey into the stable. They could hear Lydia’s instructions trail off as they disappeared from sight. “Guide to the left, then walk her around in a baby circle, until you’re backing out of the stall, her head facing you, and shut the door. They like to see where they’re going, and have you reassure them that the new space is safe...”

Carl thought Lydia must have some kind of sixth sense about her animals, because every horse was safely back inside by the time Phillip rounded the corner beside the barn. Timothy was with them, but he clearly wasn’t happy about it, struggling and swearing loudly; it was taking all of Phillip’s men to keep him under control. Jacob was right beside him, holding one arm. As they drew closer, Carl realized Timothy wasn’t just struggling from anger. The sleeves of his shirt were shredded, and his hands and arms were wrapped in what looked like emergency bandages. 

“Get the fuck off me,” Timothy snarled, attempting to tug his arm away from Jacob, but Jacob wasn’t letting go, his determined gaze fixed on the path ahead of them as they walked. 

“When you stop acting like a spoiled little boy, you get to be treated like an adult,” Jacob said, his voice surprisingly mild. But then, Jacob would know Timothy’s triggers, and Carl suspected one of them might be shouting. “I’m not letting you go until we’re back inside.”

Carl quickly herded the two teenagers back toward Tessera, well aware that Kurt was shivering, but he hadn’t taken five steps inside before he stopped dead, looking up into Tess’ blazing eyes.

“Ma’am,” he offered. He could feel Finn shrink slightly behind him, and Kurt’s sharp inhale, but Carl wasn’t about to take his eyes off Tess, not when she looked like  _that_.

Tess sighed after a moment, and then her attention shifted to fix on Kurt, who was still shivering.  “Kurt Hummel, come here,” she commanded, and to Carl’s amusement, he went. Tess had one of the heavy Tessera fleeces in her hands, and she proceeded to bundle Kurt up in it, even to the point of taking hold of the zipper herself and zipping it up nearly to his chin.

“Honestly,” she said, eyeing Kurt, a note of complaint in her voice. “Carl J-” She coughed gently. “Carl, take these two into the kitchen, and start getting them warmed up near the stove, and see if James will get them hot chocolate or tea, please. I will deal with this; this is your vacation. Go enjoy it.  _Without_  pneumonia, please. And ask James to set up the divider screen there, hmm? Thank you.”

Timothy muttered something under his breath, glaring at Jacob while Carl drew the boys away. But Phillip stepped in, asserting his authority even as Jacob took his hand off Timothy’s arm and took a step away.

“No,” Phillip said to Timothy, voice low and commanding.  “Whatever this is, this is not a discussion that we’re having out here, understand me? Inside. All of us. Neither of you are wearing jackets, and those hands need looking at.”

Timmy lunged suddenly back towards the open space of the loading dock, breaking the grip of the two security agents who’d held him to this point. But for all that he was a big man, Phillip moved quickly, and it took him less than five seconds to have his arms wrapped around Timmy’s whole body. He pinned Timothy’s arms down and lifted his feet easily off the ground, ignoring Timmy’s cries.

“Behind us, boys,” Phillip said to the two security officers, who looked sort of abashed. The big security manager turned bodily into the doorway, exchanging a glance with Tess before he spoke again. “Ma’am. Kitchen, or Room Six?”

Tess frowned, looking Timmy up and down, and glancing at Jacob, who was making an admirable job of hiding the fact that he was shivering.  Timmy’s lips were purple with cold. “Kitchen — and that divider screen better be there right now, or within thirty seconds,” she snapped, glancing at the sheepish security agents, who bolted into the kitchen.

“Jeez,” Finn muttered, clearly reluctant to leave. “That was kind of freaky. Did you see his hands? They were really torn up. I feel so bad for Timothy.”

“I feel bad for  _Jacob,”_  Kurt added.

Tess preceded them all, pointing at the bench next to the stove behind the divider. James’ staff was so well trained that none of them received more than a mere glance as the lot of them filtered into the kitchen. Phillip sat down hard on the bench, hugging Timmy tighter to his chest as the boy squirmed and kicked. He let out a yelp as he tried with his bandaged hands to pry Phillip’s arms away from him.  

Kurt shrank a little behind Finn, who shielded him in his arms. “It’s okay, baby,” he murmured. Carl kept them well away from the melee, finding them seats at the table along the opposite wall beside the pantry.

James stepped up as Tess murmured to him. The big man nodded and turned, and then Tess strode right up to Timmy, just out of range of the flailing feet, which Phillip pinned as quickly as thought. Tess regarded at the boy very carefully, keeping her distance.

“Timothy. Your hands are cut. They’re bleeding. The wire fence behind the stable?” Phillip confirmed Tess’ guess with a nod. “Yes.  Timothy, that barbed wire is filthy.  Those cuts need to be cleaned out, or you could get very sick. Now, stop this nonsense.” She moved briskly, brushing the disheveled hair from his face. “Stop with the squirming and kicking, because I’ll be damned if I let someone get sick like that on my watch.”

Carl blinked at the swear word while Phillip adjusted his grip. The big security manager had actually restrained Timothy more efficiently, but it was obvious that Phillip’s reduction in force let him relax a little more. As soon as Timothy stopped kicking, Jacob moved into the space between Timothy’s thighs, seating himself. He was effectively pinning Timothy’s legs, resting one arm on Timothy’s knee. His face was calm, but Carl could see the turmoil behind his eyes.

“Timothy. Hold out your hands, please, so that I can look at them. I won’t touch your hands, I just want to look.” Tess’ voice was firm, almost warm, and there was no censure in it, not at all what Carl knew she was capable of.  Her eyes hadn’t left Timmy’s, and she stood next to the wood stove, looking like an archaic lady of the manor in her long, sweeping dress. 

“Can’t,” Timmy muttered, and turned to look restlessly at the exit.

“I will have none of that. Hold out your hands, right now. I will look at them. Now.” She hadn’t raised her voice in the least, nor made a single move towards him.  James reappeared, setting what looked like a red duffel bag next to her feet.

“Go on then, Timmy,” James rumbled. “She’s a registered nurse - served in combat.  She knows what she’s looking at. If you just need a band-aid, she’ll let you clean it out and put it on yourself, you know.”

“James,” Tess said severely.

James gave the boy a grin. Then he turned away, heading for the serving counter, and tapped Finn on the shoulder as he readied thick, creamy hot chocolate. It was an adequate distraction for both boys, but Carl noticed Kurt still turning back to watch Tess every few moments.

“Timothy.” This last was the quietest yet.  

Still reluctant, but calm now, Timmy turned his palms up, looking away. He was able to stretch them out as Phillip’s arms went around his middle, squeezing comfortingly. Jacob sighed.

“Timothy, I am going to hand you some gauze.  You are going to blot the blood away - you don’t have to look. I need to see what’s wrong.”

He took the gauze hesitantly, starting to blot, and wincing, and then looked up at her, his eyes wild with something scary that no one could see. “You do it.”

“Are you forgetting something? One more word, please,” she suggested, emphasis resting heavily on her last word.

“Yes. You, please,” he said, suddenly squirming in Phillip’s grip.

“Very well. I expect you to refrain from kicking or hitting. Let me see, Timothy.” And then she had his hand in hers, flexing his palm back, holding him firmly as he winced again. “That’s quite a deep cut. We will start with cleaning the cuts out. I need a second pair of hands, please,” she added over her shoulder. “No one else will touch you without your permission.” Timothy shivered, and she nodded. “Yes, I imagine you’re chilled. It is February, young man.”  

Finn stayed in the kitchen, away from the sight of Timothy’s mutilated hands, but Kurt had come to quietly stand by Tess’ side. She gestured. “Kurt. In the bag, please. There will be a basin, and I would like a bottle of water, then the bottle of peroxide. Timothy, this will burn and sting. Do you understand?”

The boy managed a faint acquiescence, and Tess nodded briskly. She cleaned the cuts quickly and efficiently, ignoring the noises and protests entirely. Then she grasped the hands again, before the blood welled up, assessing the damage.  

“You are a lucky young man,” she told him quietly. “Those do not need stitches.  I will apply antibiotic ointment, which is going to hurt, and then we will just steri-strip the wounds closed. No stitches, no needles. Agreed?”

“Yes,” he replied, his word clipped.

“Good,” she said. “Kurt, the top box in the main compartment will have what I need, please. Then when those are out, empty the basin in the sink, wash it, and return it to the kit. Thank you.” Her tone was casual now, and she gave Timothy an encouraging smile as he trembled under her touch, wincing as she spread the ointment on. “That’s step one, of the last three steps, to make certain your hands are safe.  Now, let me close the cuts.”  

She worked carefully and rapidly, and Kurt was by her side again just as she finished. “Kurt, gauze rolls, and then the white fabric tape, please. Timothy. Last step. We need to cover your hands, to keep dirt and infection from getting in. Your hands are clean right now, and the bleeding is nearly stopped - covering your hands will stop it entirely. May I?”

“Yes,” came the short answer again. The boy’s eyes still looked a little wild, but Phillip and Jacob were not hanging on to him as tightly now.   

She carefully wrapped both hands, and then pushed up his torn sleeves to look at the cuts on the insides of his arms, making no mention of the old scarring there.  “These aren’t bad, Timothy. Peroxide, and ointment only - let’s finish this.”

He nodded, squirming, and let her. Tess neatly packed everything back into the kit, and picked it up, handing it to Kurt. “Second cupboard from the right, next to the entryway, in the bottom cabinet.”

Finally, she turned back to Timothy, who had slumped in Phillip’s arms, looking pale and exhausted. Jacob was watching with apprehension.

“Jacob,” she commanded. “Timothy needs to rest. He’ll be shaky, but there’s Gatorade, juice and broth in the kitchen upstairs, and crackers. It can be brought to your room.”

“Ma’am,” he said quietly, nodding. “Thank you.”

She focused on Timmy, crouching down to meet his eyes, her dress pooling at her feet. “Running is never, never, an acceptable answer here. There are so many people to talk to here who understand, and who have a need and desire and motivation to help, who know what it’s like to be where you are. There will be extra security posted outside of your quarters for the duration of your stay. You must not look upon them as jailers, Timothy. If you need help, they are there to listen, or they will help you find whatever or whomever you need.  And…” She trailed off.

“And?” Timothy was more attentive than he had been, but Tess didn’t smile in response, as Carl had seen her do so many times.

“And if you run again, you will answer to me,” came her quiet words. Her grey eyes held Timothy’s. “As it is, I’ve seen many young men do what you’ve just done. If you choose to do so again, you will be disciplined. Spanked,” she clarified. “I know this was explained to you before you came here.  Jacob understands it, and I know Adam does too. Do you understand me?”

Timothy’s mouth opened, then shut again, his jaw wobbling briefly before he clenched it, looking away. “Yeah.”

“It’s my opinion that you should be disciplined now, Timothy. Trust me, I’m very tempted to handle this myself, but Jacob is better suited to take care of you. However, if you would prefer to answer to someone else, please say so.”  

Timothy looked at Jacob, the panic rising again, and Jacob moved in immediately to slide an arm around his shoulder. “He’s mine. I’ll give him what he needs.”

Carl watched Timothy’s breathing slow, and as his anxiety eased, he nodded once.

“Very good, Timothy.” They all stood, Jacob helping Timothy to his feet, while Carl came forward to help Tess rise. “If you have need of anything, even if it’s just to talk, you must come to me. Will you promise?”

“Yeah, okay,” he whispered.

“Very good,” she praised again, watching the boy flush. And then her attention shifted to Jacob. “Jacob. The cuts on his hands and arms aren’t serious enough to prohibit disciplinary activity, but watch for infection, please.  And if he tends to clench his hands when he’s being disciplined, you might have him hold onto a towel or washcloth, to prevent him from re-opening the wounds.”

“Thank you.” The way Timothy was leaning on Jacob, it was clear he wasn’t going to last much longer on his feet.  

“Phillip. You’ll escort the boys back to their private quarters?”

The big security agent nodded, rising from the bench, and ushered Jacob and Timothy ahead of him. The trio left the room, the two security agents trailing behind as James silently reentered the kitchen.

And then Tess turned to Kurt, drawing him close with a gentle hand. She leaned forward, to place a kiss on his cheek, making him smile.

“Sweetheart, thank you. You gave me exactly the help that I needed.” She took his hand and led him to sit down beside Finn, motioning to James. James handed Kurt a large mug of cocoa. Kurt sipped from the mug, his eyes enormous over the rim of the oversized cup, and let out a long, shaky breath.  

“That was... intense.”  

James inclined his head solemnly. “Par for the course, honey.  We get a lot of intense people around here, it’s fine. What does anyone need, at the very heart of them, aside from care and love? What’s happened isn’t worrying you, is it?”

Finn spoke next, taking Kurt’s free hand. “Timothy’s been through a lot, from what Puck tells me. He left home when he was about Puck’s age, and he went to New York. He didn’t have anybody, but he managed to put himself through school anyway.” He shrugged. “I’m just thinking about how things were with his dad. I mean, that’s how he learned how to run away.”

Tess was quiet, not moving her hand from Kurt’s shoulder, seating herself silently next to him as he listened to Finn. She looked up at that, exchanging a long glance with Carl, silent words passing between the two of them. They had enough history that they could have whole conversations this way, and this one wasn’t one they were about to have in front of Finn.

“No one has to run forever,” Tess told them, in her quiet voice. “And sometimes it takes some discipline to get that message across. Jacob loves him, it seems.”

“Timothy said he wouldn’t run anymore,” Kurt replied, looking sober. “Adam told me that was their agreement, but it’s been going on all month. I don’t think Jacob exactly expected Timothy to follow through perfectly, but this...” He trailed off.  

Tess nodded.  “Some things come with experience,” she said thoughtfully. “Now. I want to know how you are.” She touched her index finger to the tip of his nose briefly.

Kurt blushed, wrinkling his nose and ducking away. Finn visibly softened, squeezing Kurt’s hand as he moved to sit closer beside him.  

“Last I checked, blushing isn’t an answer,” Tess teased lightly.

“I’m fine,” Kurt insisted, waving a hand in the air between them.  

Tess smiled. “Mind that you’re truthful, honey. Finn?”

“Ma’am?” He straightened up. “Oh -- I’m all right. I think. I’ll figure it out.”

“Very good, boys,” she told them, including Carl in her glance. “Now. I need to sneak back upstairs for a half an hour. I suggest that you go back up and wash up again, hmm?  Carl will see to it.” Her last comment was almost absent-minded, and she nodded to James and went out of the kitchen.

Finn remained silent while Carl escorted him and Kurt back upstairs to the room. To Carl’s own attentive eye, Kurt was dealing with the event better than Finn was, but he wasn’t going to make any assumptions about why. He simply followed them into the bedroom and waited until Kurt had gone into the bathroom to shower, leaving Finn alone.

“Still thinking you’re all right?” he asked quietly. He watched Finn sit on the edge of his bed, but didn’t approach him.  

“I’m trying to figure out what bothered me about all of that,” Finn said at last. “I mean, I don’t  _think_  it was the idea of Timothy getting punished for taking off…”

“Disciplined, Finn.” Carl watched Finn’s face go quizzical, and he clarified, “Discipline and punishment are different. Jacob’s not interested in telling Timothy he’s bad; he wants to teach him how to act, and to give him help to make it possible for him to do that.”

Finn nodded, taking that in. “Okay, yeah.” He looked up at Carl, clearly still troubled. “He’s making the choice, though, to run. Isn’t he? He’s an adult, not a kid.”

“Even adults have trouble dealing with old triggers. I think it would be safe to say that Timothy’s not going to be able to expect himself to handle situations like that alone, not for a long while. Jacob knows he’s triggering Timothy just by being in his life, but I think he also knows he’s ultimately good for Timothy.” He put his hands behind his head, trying to stay casual. “It’s hard, and it’s worth it.”

Finn’s smile was so vulnerable, Carl wanted to cross to him and take him in his arms, but he maintained his distance. Finn needed that from him as much as anything, and he wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to give it to him. He waited on the chair across the room while Finn thought some more.  

“So do you think Timothy’s running away because he’s freaking out? Or is it because he’s being selfish?”

“Timothy gets to decide what he wants. As you said, he’s an adult. He consented to this arrangement. I suspect his rational mind understands that living with it when it gets overwhelming and unpleasant will ultimately be to his benefit.”

Finn grimaced. “You think he should put up with it?”

“Yes,” Carl said. “And I think he should let Jacob help him when it feels too hard to do it alone.”

The shower turned off. Finn turned unhappy eyes on Carl.

“What if he doesn’t ask for help?”

“He did, in advance,” Carl pointed out. “Because he knew he wouldn’t be able to, in the moment. Jacob’s not going to give up on him.”

Carl knew the questions weren’t only about Jacob and Timothy, but tonight wasn’t the time to probe for details. He stood up, stretching his back, and headed for the door.  

“I’m going to get my guitar and meet you downstairs.”

“Your guitar?” Finn sounded startled. Carl smiled at him from the doorway.  

“Be prepared, my boy. Adam’s not the only one performing in this little house concert.”

* * *

Kurt had expected Tess to have the concert set up on the stage where Adam told him the theater troupe had rehearsed, but when he came back downstairs, he found Stephen ushering everyone into the small dining room.  The chairs were set up in two half-circles around a low raised platform, upon which Adam sat, holding an electric guitar in his lap.  He spoke in low tones with a blond man setting up a mic stand, but when Kurt approached, Adam paused, looked up, and smiled.  The expression on his face made Kurt catch his breath.

“I don’t know when I’m going to stop being surprised by that,” Kurt said, laughing with embarrassment. The blond man headed out of the room, leaving them alone. Kurt hesitated just off the edge of the platform, but Adam held out his hand, and he took the remaining steps to close the distance between them, and clasped their fingers together.

“I’d ask  _by what,”_  said Adam, still smiling, “but I think I know. I say enjoy it while we have it, and let’s not worry about how long it’ll last.”

Kurt doubted he was going to stop worrying, but he did his best to put his fears to the back of his mind. He nodded at the guitar on Adam’s lap. “Since when do you play?”

“Oh, since never. I’m just holding this for Noah. Without Tommy here, somebody’s got to play guitar, and he’s agreed to help me out here. You want to look over my setlist and give me some advice?”

The prospect felt a little overwhelming, but Kurt obediently ran his eyes over the paper Adam picked up from the music stand in front of him. “If I Had You… Music Again… Fever… what, no ballads?”

Adam shrugged. “All the slow songs are depressing. I could do Aftermath, but honestly, I don’t know if I can get through it without crying.”

“Seriously?” Kurt eyed him. “You’re not going to convince me you’re feeling sad.”

“It’s not sad crying, honey. It’s just me being sentimental. I don’t know if your father’s going to deal very well with me getting all clingy with you and Noah.”

Kurt wasn’t sure he wanted to think about what his father was dealing with already, but he shook his head. “He’s been in much better spirits ever since… um, breakfast. With Finn.”

“Yeah, I really don’t know how to give Finn my sympathy about that? I think I’d just laugh too hard if I tried.” Adam’s attention was caught by the return of the blond man, pushing a full-sized keyboard on a dolly. He set up a guitar stand beside Adam, followed by another folding stand for the keyboard, and began to plug cables into the sound board while Adam lifted the keyboard onto the stand. “So what are  _you_  going to play?”

“Me?” Kurt squeaked. “Isn’t this your concert?”

“Since when do I ever do anything on my own? You remember how it was with Alecia in my living room. Musicians aren’t spectators. I want to hear what you have to share. Consider this a jam session.” He gestured grandly at the keyboard. “So, come on. Sound check.”

Kurt allowed himself to be encouraged to sit on the little stool the blond man set in front of the keyboard. He placed his hands on the weighted keys, trying not to feel flustered.  _It’s just Adam,_  he reminded himself, and did an experimental chord progression before launching into the Chopin piece they’d played on the iPod during their tattooing session. He felt the scratchy bandage covering the spot on his chest, under his shirt, and concentrated on keeping his sixteenth notes even.

Adam worked around him while the blond man adjusted various knobs and dials, varying the sound output on the monitor, but he was obviously listening to the piano. When Kurt reached the end of the piece, he urged, “Play the song you wrote for me?”

“I’m not going to play that when everyone’s listening,” Kurt warned, but the joyous arpeggios rippled out of his fingers at Adam’s request, filling the room with sound. This time Adam stopped setting up and paused in front of the keyboard, his eyes half-lidded. 

In the midst of the bridge, Puck appeared in the doorway. He approached slowly, tucking his arm around Adam’s waist and listening with a pleased smile on his face. Kurt tried to keep his mind on the piece. It was hard not to be a little distracted by the two gorgeous men watching him, but he knew he could probably have played this blindfolded by now. Adam sighed in contentment when Kurt played the final C major arpeggio.

“For somebody who loves to perform, you have a hard time sharing things you wrote yourself,” Adam noted. He leaned across the keyboard and kissed Kurt gently. “It’s a completely unfounded fear.”

“I don’t think I’m embarrassed about having written it,” Kurt tried to explain. “It’s more like… I’m sharing something intimate by playing it for you in public. Like PDA, only a hundred times worse.”

“Mmmm.” Adam nodded. “PDA’s so bad? Don’t you kiss your boyfriends at school.”

“Hardly ever,” said Puck. “I mean, we’re not out with Finn, anyway, but hardly ever with me. It’s fine; I don’t need PDA.”

Adam appeared to be more thoughtful than surprised by this. “I think it would have been a lot harder for me to be out if I’d been a jock instead of a theater geek.”

Puck laughed a little. “It’s not Finn’s choice. I think he wanted to be out before me or Kurt. It’s because of what’s going on with me and Sarah and social services. It’s a little late to go back in the closet with Kurt, but if they found out all the stuff we were  _really_  doing? It’d sabotage the whole adoption. Finn’s just making the best of a sucky situation.”

Now Adam was definitely surprised, but he didn’t make a comment. He just squeezed Kurt’s hand and slid out from under Puck’s arm, walking backward toward the door. “I’m going to get my notes, but I’ll be back well before curtain, Kurt, so you’d better choose something to perform.”

Kurt looked helplessly at Puck as Adam departed. “I really wasn’t prepared for this. I have no idea what I would even play. Or sing. Does he want me to  _sing?_ ”

“Hey, don’t freak out. He’s not going to make you do anything.”

“No, I know. I just — I don’t want to let him down.” Kurt looked down at the bench in front of the keyboard with trepidation. “What about you? Adam said you’d agreed to help him out.”

“He needed an accompanist. We’ve been rehearsing on Skype, Tommy helping me learn the guitar parts. And then Carl found out and wanted to do something, and then Sarah had her idea…” Puck flashed a grin at Kurt. “That’s what we were doing this afternoon. Sarah and I rehearsed her song, the one we wrote together back in December for Frances, but Sarah wrote some lyrics last night, so we worked up something new. For Adam.”

“Sweetheart!” Kurt didn’t have to fake an excited smile, but he felt a little guilty about the accompanying twinge of anxiety. In their triad, Adam had never made Kurt feel like Puck was more important or better or anything, but it had always been obvious that what Adam and Puck had was special. And Puck had already proven himself a talented composer and lyricist.  

 _I’m running out of ways to be special,_ Kurt thought, and immediately tried to squash the thought.  _It’s not true. Noah’s amazing, and Adam loves me for who I am, and… it’s fine._

“Yeah!” Puck reached for his guitar on the stand, beaming. “It’s not polished yet, but that doesn’t matter. I love putting Sarah’s lyrics to music. I really think she’s got some talent.”

“The lyrics she wrote for Frances was wonderful. I can’t wait to hear what she made for Adam.” He paused, then suggested, “You could play your song. I mean…  _our_ song. The one you wrote for me and Finn.”

Puck faltered in the midst of his tuning, his grin slipping a bit. “Yeah, but Finn’s never heard it.”

“I know. That’s why it’d be a good choice, right?”

Puck shrugged. He strummed, a little too vigorously, the strings jangling under his fingers. “I don’t know. Maybe that song’s too much about the past now. I thought we were supposed to be moving forward.”  

Kurt moved in close beside him, putting a hand on his back. “It’s okay,” he soothed. “You don’t have to play it. I know Finn would love it, but you still don’t have to.”

“I don’t know,” Puck said again. His fingers moved through the chord progression, Asus2, A, D. His expression was regretful. “Things are going pretty well, you know? I don’t want to jinx it. But I’d play it for you.”

“Yeah?” said Kurt, his voice soft. He kissed Puck’s cheek. “I’d do the descant, if it wouldn’t bother you.”

“You think it would bother me? Well, okay, I did kind of freak out when you asked me to sing it at Brad’s house the other day.” He grinned sheepishly. “Whatever. It’s worth a try?”

Kurt settled carefully on the bench beside Puck, listening while he began to sing the first verse.  

_Cool on the outside yet trembling inside_   
_Wanting to run but there's nowhere to hide…_

He’d listened to the recording Puck had made for him, the one with Brad and Mercedes, more times than he could count.  But the experience of being present, watching Puck sing it in front of him, and knowing the volume of emotional backstory it carried, hit him harder than he’d expected.  By the time Puck reached the second verse, he was crying, but he kept his eyes on Puck, watching for the cue to sing the descant. Puck mouthed the lyrics along with him, a smile playing on his lips as he strummed.

_Sing our song,  
_ _you are music inside me.  
_ _Your voice rising, reaching,  
_ _notes falling  
_ _like a bead of sweat  
_ _dripping down my —_

“Honey,” they heard, just a breath, but it was enough to stop Kurt where he was, turning swiftly to stare at Adam standing in the doorway.  He relaxed a little when he realized Adam was alone, and gestured for Adam to come closer.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Adam added.  He moved to crouch beside Puck, placing one hand on his knee.  Puck was averting his eyes, almost wincing at Adam’s touch.  “What — was that?”

“It was nothing,” Puck muttered. Kurt almost stared at him, but Adam just nodded at Puck’s reaction. His hand tightened on Puck’s knee, hard enough to hurt. It  _had_  to hurt, Kurt thought, but Puck’s only reaction was to sigh and relax a little against Adam.

“Did you write that?” asked Adam again, his voice still gentle. Puck nodded.

“It was for me and Finn,” Kurt told him. It was hard to say the words, and he added, stumbling over the words, “But it’s not just about me and Finn anymore. I mean, the song is, but — that was before — before the way things are now…”

“Kurt,” Adam said. Now his blue eyes were on him, a faint hint of reprimand in his tone. “What you and Finn and Puck have, that’s still just about you. It doesn’t have to include me. You don’t have to worry about that.”

It hurt a little to hear Adam say that — not because Kurt disagreed with him, but because no matter how calm and rational Adam was being about it, Kurt thought he was hiding some large measure of pain. But all he could do was nod in return.  

Adam smiled. He turned back to Puck. “Would you play the rest?”

“I don’t want Finn to hear it,” Puck said immediately. “Not today. Not yet.”

Adam stood, going back to the door. He poked his head through it, saying some quiet words to the blond man. Then he closed the door, returning to stand before them. “There. We won’t be disturbed for five minutes. Plenty of time to sing the whole thing.”

He waited with obvious expectation until Puck began the song over, hesitating at first, but growing in confidence as he sang each verse. Kurt sang the descant alone after the second verse, and the third verse they sang together, the two parts intertwining. Puck played a little instrumental bridge after that, the complex accompaniment weaving the melody line with the descant with such subtlety that even Kurt had trouble identifying the third part of the song — the part that was Puck.  

The fourth verse, Puck sang alone. Kurt was supposed to sing the descant again, but he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt the quiet poignancy of Puck’s lyrics:

_These feelings aren't right, all I know is they're true_   
_I'm a fallen angel who's landed with you_   
_My heart skips a beat that lasts for so long_   
_You’re my right kind of wrong_

Adam wasn’t quite crying when he enfolded Puck in a tight embrace, but Kurt could see his arms trembling. Puck rested his head on Adam’s shoulder, his eyes closed.

“Beautiful,” Adam murmured. He kissed Puck’s cheek, and they both sighed. “Really, just beautiful. Thank you.”

Kurt walked with Adam to open up the door again, letting the blond man back in to set up the rest of the sound equipment.  

“I still don’t know what I should sing,” Kurt admitted.

“Honey, you already played your song for me, and you sang with Noah. I think you’ve done plenty.” He paused and kissed Kurt on the forehead. “But if you wanted to sing with me on any of my songs, I’d really love that.”

“Yeah?” The idea made him smile. “That would be fun, being your backup singer.”

“Kurt Hummel, you’re never going to be any kind of a backup singer.” Adam shook his head, grinning at him. “No matter who you’re singing with. Fronting a band with you, though… that would be fantastic.”

Kurt couldn’t help laugh. “I really don’t think I have the right kind of voice for singing in a band.”

“No? Wait a couple years.”  He was still grinning. “I think your voice might surprise you.”

Sarah was the first of the family to arrive, edging through the door, her eyes roving over the room. When she saw Puck, she made a beeline for him, speaking in low whispers. Kurt tried not to listen, taking a seat in the front semicircle of chairs beside the raised platform.  

“What are they planning?” Adam asked curiously once Sarah had disappeared again.

“I don’t exactly know,” Kurt admitted. “And I think I shouldn’t say anything, anyway.”

Kurt’s father arrived next, walking with — to Kurt’s surprise — Finn. They seemed reasonably comfortable with one another. When Finn came over and took a seat next to Kurt on one of the folding chairs, Kurt couldn’t help himself. He leaned in close and whispered, “These chairs are pretty hard. You sure you’re not going to start vibrating in the middle of the performance?”

Finn didn’t even blush. He just smiled calmly. “I’m sure,” he whispered back.

It was a wholly unsatisfying response, but after a few moments of waiting for more, Kurt sighed and decided he was going to have to live with it. “Are you going to sing something?” he asked instead.

“Maybe.”

That was even less satisfying. Kurt wrinkled his brow in perplexity. Finn took his hand, squeezing it.  

“Later,” he told Kurt. “I’m fine. And, hey, Adam Lambert in concert, right?”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “It’s not  _exactly_  —“

But Finn was laughing. “Come on, baby. This is going to be good.”

Timothy and Jacob arrived together, Timothy holding tight to Jacob’s hand with his unbandaged one. His face was pale and his eyes somewhat exhausted, but he looked a hundred times better than he had that afternoon, and he sat quietly on the folding chair, so Kurt figured his punishment couldn’t have been too severe.

Kurt’s father took a seat on the other side of the aisle, which was something of a relief. Knowing the kind of reaction Kurt had always had when he listened to Adam’s videos, he really didn’t need his dad sitting right beside him while Adam was singing. Carole sat down beside him, smiling across the aisle at Kurt.  

“I think your mom had a good time this weekend,” Kurt said.  

Finn nodded, watching Stephen show Tess and James in to a pair of seats on the right. “I think so, too? I don’t really know what happened between the two of them, but I figure she’ll tell me later.”

Kurt had suspicions, himself, about what exactly had transpired between his father and Carole, but he wasn’t surprised to see them coming out of the other side of the conflict. He leaned his head on Finn’s shoulder and sighed. “I’m really impressed at them. Considering they don’t have a whole lot more experience at this relationship thing than you and I do, they’re doing so well.”

The room was almost full now. Kurt signaled to Puck as he crossed in front of them, patting the empty seat on the other side of him, but Puck just pointed at the stage.  

“What’s Puck doing?” Finn asked, but Kurt shushed him as Adam adjusted the microphone on its stand. The room quieted.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” Adam said into the microphone. “When I was first invited here, Tess suggested I might do a performance. But this weekend has been so much about  _not_  performing for me.” He made eye contact with Kurt, and smiled. Kurt smiled back, feeling a thrill, while Finn squeezed his hand again. “I don’t spend a lot of time hiding, anyway, but this part of my life, these people… I haven’t had the opportunity to do anything like this before, to really be open about us. So I requested we make this less of a performance and more of a round robin. We’ve got a roomful of talent here, and I didn’t want to waste any of it.”

“Less talking, more playing,” Carl called, and everyone chuckled. Adam grinned, turning toward Puck.

“A tip of the hat to Noah for stepping up and learning all the guitar parts to my songs in preparation for this. My guitarist Tommy’s been Skyping lessons to him for the past two weeks. A round of applause for Noah Puckerman?”

The room clapped while Puck played a little lick on his electric, waving the neck of his guitar in thanks. Finn turned to Kurt in obvious surprise.

“Did you know he was doing that?” he demanded.

“I don’t think he reports back everything he does when he’s at his own house, Finn,” Kurt murmured.  

Adam was continuing. “I want to thank everyone for making this weekend wonderful, but especially I want to thank Tess Riordan and the entire management staff of Tessera. This place is astonishing. I’m so lucky to have had the opportunity to be a guest here, and I’m definitely looking forward to coming back.”

Tess was nodding and smiling as everyone applauded again. Adam glanced at Puck, and he began to strum the opening bars to “Music Again.” With impeccable polish and enthusiasm, Adam took the microphone in both hands and sang:

[ _https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8_KmLn_FDh0_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8_KmLn_FDh0)

_I want your body mind soul etcetera  
_ _And one day you’ll see you should give it to me  
_ _And I don’t want anyone instead of you  
_ _Oh babe, I’m going crazy…_  

Adam worked his way through several of his most energetic numbers.  He kept the audience engaged, even though it wasn’t choreographed, and most of Tess’ staff probably hadn’t heard his music before.  Finn drummed along to everything on both knees, clapping as loudly as Kurt at the conclusion of each song. 

“All right.” Adam tipped the music stand toward himself, smiling apologetically. “This one’s a little too new for me to sing without lyrics. I promise, this is the only depressing one I’ll sing today.” Puck played the intro, only hesitating a little, but Adam sang just as confidently as he had before.

[ _https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y1phcRw3HtU_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y1phcRw3HtU)

_I was going blind  
_ _Almost lost my mind  
_ _Letting go what we could share  
_ _I love you always  
_ _Connections like ours are not made to fade_

Finn looked puzzled. “I don’t recognize this.”

“He said it was new.”  But Kurt already felt a wave of prickling awareness.  He’d always sworn that several of Adam’s songs could have been written for them, even though they’d all been created long before he and Puck and Adam had met.  But this song — it almost certainly  _had_  been written for them, or one of them.  It was more profound an experience than he’d expected, possibly because he  _hadn’t_  expected it.  But Puck’s expression, watching Kurt as he played, just reinforced his suspicion.  He clutched harder at Finn’s hand.

 _I thought I could find someone else to mind  
_ _Moving past these routine days  
_ _I love you always  
_ _Connections like ours are not made to fade_  

_Just the way it is  
_ _Just a song now  
_ _Just the way it is now_

Adam turned the microphone to face Puck as he sang the bridge. The love that shone in his eyes was unmistakable, and it was a wonder that Puck was able to keep his fingers on the correct frets, the way he was adoring Adam right back. But the lyrics struck Kurt like a slap on his flesh.

_You were the first  
_ _Now I believe  
_ _You showed me my thirst  
_ _You let me lead  
_ _You had to grow  
_ _I had to go_

_Maybe if we lived just at night  
_ _There’d be no expectations  
_ _Shutting out real life  
_ _Walls of degradation  
_ _Just the way it is… now._

_I was going blind  
_ _I almost lost my mind  
_ _I’m letting go what we could share  
_ _Loving you always  
_ _Connections like ours are not made to fade away_  

While he applauded, Kurt stared desperately at Adam, wanting some kind of confirmation that this wasn’t what he was really thinking. It wasn’t just something that happened, something they had to hide, to be ashamed of. He  _wasn’t_  letting go. Was he?  

Puck sat down on the chair on the side, while Adam lowered the microphone stand and settled onto the stool behind the keyboard, grimacing. “Now I’m really going to embarrass myself. I don’t play the piano, but this song is even more new than the last one, or else I would have asked Kurt to learn this part. You’ll just have to put up with my fumbling.” He played a sloppy chord progression through several times. “This is… kind of an apology song for the last one. Everybody knows that uncertainty and fear can kill the best buzz, right? Well, the last song was kind of how I feel about my relationships on a bad day. This one talks about how I feel about them on a good day — and, since I’m an optimist at heart, how I think they actually are.”

His smile for Kurt telegraphed volumes.  _Courage. I’m sorry. Don’t be afraid._  And:  _this is for you._

[ _https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8oSawKY1qCw_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8oSawKY1qCw)

_You are my lava  
_ _My lava flow  
_ _Burn like no other  
_ _Right through the core  
_ _Just like the constellations we shine  
_ _No wreck or ruin our planets align_  

_The tide and the moon we are  
_ _You pull like the sea  
_ _In waves I can feel you  
_ _You're my ecstasy  
_ _The lamb and the lion  
_ _We lay down in peace  
_ _Like air to the fire  
_ _I need you to breathe_

_By the rules I play  
_ _By the rules I play  
_ _By the rules I play  
_ _Let nature have its way  
_ _Predator and prey  
_ _That's the way we're made  
_ _So by the rules  
_ _By the rules  
_ _By the rules_  

This time, the lyrics made Kurt smile. The song was actually more for Noah than for him, but Kurt could understand it. That kind of dynamic push-pull perfection really did feel like something nature had designed to be just that way. It was exactly the dynamic that Puck had with Adam — and Finn, when things were good.  

_After the thunder  
_ _Must come the rain  
_ _After our beautiful karma  
_ _Must come the pain  
_ _Just like the constellations we fade  
_ _As blades of sunlight send night away_

He might have been talking about the bittersweet ache of parting as easily as the delicious thrill of Adam’s hand on his skin.  Neither one felt exactly bad — but in song, it was easy to tell how much the situation affected Adam.  He was usually so calm and easy about everything, but when he expressed himself in song, all the emotions showed, the good and the bad.  It just made Kurt ache with love to witness it.

 _By the rules I play  
_ _By the rules I play  
_ _By the rules I play  
_ _Let nature have its way  
_ _Predator and prey  
_ _That's the way we're made  
_ _So by the rules  
_ _By the rules  
_ _By the rules_  

There was more applause for this one, although Kurt suspected it was more about appreciating the message than about the quality of the music. Adam rose from the piano bench to accept the feedback, then took a deep breath.  

“I have one more song, and then I’ll turn the mic over to the rest of you.” He gestured at Puck. “Before that, another round of applause for Noah.”  

Puck took it with pride, bowing and waving, but he paused when Carl came up to stand beside him on the stage.  

“Adam has one more,” Kurt saw him say under his breath.

“I know,” Carl agreed, holding up his own black beat-up acoustic. “I’m accompanying him.”

Kurt felt Finn’s breathing stop for just a heartbeat. He looked up at the stage, blinking at Carl. Adam was looking back at him.   

“These last three songs were all inspired by the people I love,” Adam told the audience, still looking straight at Kurt, “but I got the lyrics for this one from somebody else. To me, it feels hopeful. I hope it’s what he was looking for.”

Puck came over and took the empty seat beside Kurt, looking over at him with a question on his face, but Kurt shook his head. Whatever Adam was going to sing, the story behind this one was a mystery.

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=goopbH6QREo>

_Cold as ice  
_ _And more bitter than a December  
_ _Winter night  
_ _That's how I treated you_

_And I know that I  
_ _I sometimes tend to lose my temper  
_ _And I cross the line  
_ _Yeah that's the truth_  

 _I know it gets hard sometimes  
_ _But I could never  
_ _Leave your side  
_ _No matter what I say_  

It was a meditative ballad. At first, Kurt thought they might be Sarah’s lyrics. He thought, of all the people in the room, she might understand the idea of knowing somebody better than they know themselves. But when Finn responded to the chorus with a startled  _Oh,_  Kurt realized what was happening. He fumbled for Finn’s hand again, holding on while Adam sang the rest of the song to Carl’s simple guitar accompaniment.  It was  _Finn’s_ song — the one Adam had written for him, back before Kurt and Adam had even met.

_Cause if I wanted to go I would have gone by now,  
_ _But I really need you near me to  
_ _Keep my mind off the edge  
_ _If I wanted to leave I would have left by now  
_ _But you're the only one that knows me  
_ _Better than I know myself_

_All along  
_ _I tried to pretend it didn't matter  
_ _If I was alone  
_ _But deep down I know  
_ _If you were gone  
_ _For even a day I wouldn't know which way to turn  
_ _Cause I'm lost without you_  

Puck had slowly become more and more still beside him, until he was sitting absolutely transfixed, staring at the stage. Kurt took Finn’s hand, intertwined with his own, and brought it across his lap until his knuckles brushed Puck’s. Finn jumped at the contact, but when he grasped for Puck’s hand, Puck took it with a strangled gasp.  

In front of him, Kurt witnessed the tension of their handclasp for several exquisite moments before placing his own hands atop and underneath them both, cradling them gently while they listened to the rest of the song. 

_I know it gets hard sometimes  
_ _But I could never  
_ _Leave your side  
_ _No matter what I say_

_I get kind of dark  
_ _Let it go too far  
_ _I can be obnoxious at times  
_ _But try and see my heart  
_ _Cause I need you now  
_ _So don't let me down  
_ _You're the only thing in this world  
_ _I would die without_

_Cause if I wanted to go I would have gone by now,  
_ _But I really need you near me to  
_ _Keep my mind off the edge  
_ _If I wanted to leave I would have left by now  
_ _But you're the only one that knows me  
_ _Better than I know myself_  

By the end, Kurt found himself mouthing the words along with Adam. He could already tell, of the three new songs, this was the one song he’d pick to be the single on Adam’s next album. He was sure of it.  

The applause was tumultuous and went long enough for Adam to start laughing and holding up both hands. This response prompted Tess to rise to her feet, the very picture of haughty elegance.

“Young man,” she announced across the room, “I’ve never been a musician myself, but I can teach you one thing. When the room loves you, you stand there and love them right back, as long as they let you. Do you hear me?”

Adam glanced at Carl, standing beside him wearing a barely disguised smirk, then nodded his head. “Yes, ma’am.” He took Carl’s hand and together they did a sweeping bow, inspiring a fresh round of applause.  

“Now — who’s next?” Adam said, when the room was finally quiet. “Come on, I know there’s a bunch of people waiting to perform.”

“Finn,” Carl called, beckoning with one hand. Finn looked at Puck’s hand in his, then up at Puck’s face, so full of questions.

“Later,” Kurt told them, patting their hands. “Go on, Finn. We’ll have time later. Carl wants you now.”

Finn chuckled, his face a little red, but he trotted up to the stage and climbed up beside Carl, who’d already switched his guitar for Puck’s electric. He glanced around, laughing. “Nobody’s on drums? You actually have to play guitar!” 

“Finn and I have been playing Saturday open mics at a little coffee house in Columbus,” Carl explained, for the benefit of the audience. “Both of us play drums, and lately there’s been a third on guitar, so I’m almost always fighting him for the right to play kit.”

“It won’t exactly sound right without drums,” Finn added. “Not if you want me to play  _that_  song.”

“Aw, come on,” called Adam. “You can play anything you want without drums. I mean,  _I_  played  _keyboard.”_

“Okay, okay!” Finn laughed again, shaking his head. “I guess I have kind of… a thing for eighties rock? Glee club did Journey, but we haven’t done any Boston.” He looked pointedly over at Kurt. “Which we totally need to do.”

“Over my dead body,” Kurt called back, making the audience laugh.  

“ _Anyway,_ ” Carl stressed, “we’ve been having a ball, singing this music that Finn loves so much at our open mic, and I thought you all needed to hear Finn’s Tom Scholz impression. What do you say?”

The assembled crowd clapped and cheered, making Finn grin and blush even harder.  

“It’s a really good song,” Finn added earnestly. “I think we’re going to need some lap drumming, though. Do you think you could help us out?”

Watching Finn and Carl try to teach all two dozen of their family and Tessera’s staff the drum part of “More Than A Feeling” made Kurt a little more sappy than was useful, but he came in on the air-cymbal every time Carl cued him, and they all managed to play a solid clapping two-four beat through every chorus.  

[ _https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fm_-sW4Vktw_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fm_-sW4Vktw)

_I looked out this morning and the sun was gone  
_ _Turned on some music to start my day  
_ _I lost myself in a familiar song  
_ _I closed my eyes and I slipped away_  

_It's more than a feeling, when I hear that old song they used to play…_

Carl’s guitar solo was excellent, but Finn took down the house, stalking around the stage and cupping the microphone in both hands just like he’d done when he’d been high on Vitamin D. He wailed each high G with plenty of testosterone-driven appeal.   

It was more than a little intimidating, the way both Finn and Adam managed to sing _higher_  than Kurt without losing one ounce of their masculinity. The more everyone cheered for an encore, the more certain Kurt felt that he’d made the right decision not to sing anything at all. 

“What about you?” Finn said to Carl, when the hubbub had died down. “Aren’t you going to play something?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Carl said modestly, but their audience was having none of that.  They started to call out favorite songs, from the Eagles to the Beatles.  Finally, Carole chimed in with a loud, “Jackson Browne,” and Carl’s eyes lit up.  He bit his lower lip, picking out the chords.  

“Now that’s one I haven’t heard in a while.” He nodded with satisfaction at Carole. “And I suspect most of these youngsters haven’t heard of him at all.”

“Exactly  _who_  are you calling a youngster, Jesse?” Stephen inquired in his driest tone.  

Carl was practically giggling, but Kurt knew if they were going to actually compare ages, he’d win handily over most of them, including Kurt’s own father. None of that mattered, though. Carl was a hell of a performer, and the song was a good one, even if it was true that Kurt had never heard it before. Finn’s eyes were glistening, watching him perform, and his dad was singing along.

[ _http://youtu.be/jC-pkV1s0Zc?t=29s_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jC-pkV1s0Zc)

_Everyone I know, everywhere I go  
_ _People need some reason to believe  
_ _I don't know about anyone but me  
_ _If it takes all night, that'll be all right  
_ _If I can get you to smile before I leave_  

_Looking out at the road rushing under my wheels  
_ _I don't know how to tell you all just how crazy this life feels  
_ _I look around for the friends that I used to turn to to pull me through  
_ _Looking into their eyes I see them running too_

_Running on - running on empty  
_ _Running on - running blind  
_ _Running on - running into the sun  
_ _But I'm running behind_  

“I can tell we’re quickly devolving into the land of the hopelessly sappy,” Carl quipped. “Quick, Puck, play some Neil Young.”

“Who’s he?” Puck said curiously, which made Burt crack up.

“Neil  _Diamond,”_  he called to Carl between breaths. “Puck likes Neil  _Diamond.”_

“Oh, we could play ‘America!’” Finn said with excitement, but Puck was already on his feet, climbing onto the platform. 

“We actually have a thing we were going to do.” He motioned to Sarah, who glared at him and shook her head, crossing her arms in defiance. “And… I guess I’m singing it by myself, but whatever.” He grinned at Adam. “Like you said, you played keyboard.”

“I did,” Adam agreed. “Kind of.”

Kurt turned in his seat to face Sarah. “Oh, come on. Aren’t you going to sing your angel song for Adam?”

“ _No,”_  she said flatly.

“Aren’t angels kind of his thing?” Finn nudged Carl. “If you sing your angel song, Carl would sing  _his_ angel song.”

“I would? I mean — yeah, sure.” Carl nodded emphatically. “You don’t have anything to worry about, Sarah. We’re all musicians here. Finn, don’t you have an angel song? That one about lips.”

She glared more ferociously. “I’m not getting up on a _stage_  in front of  _Adam Lambert,”_  she hissed. All bravado aside, Kurt could tell she was terrified.

Adam stood up, picking up his folding chair in both hands. “Well, then — we don’t need to use the stage. Come on, Finn, help me make this into a circle.”

James and Philip shifted the segments of the stage platform to the side to make enough room to accommodate everyone moving their chairs to make a large oval shape. Adam dragged the microphone to the center of the circle, then disconnected it from its stand, handing it to Puck with a smile. He sat down next to Sarah.  

“Would it be easier if I were over there, instead of right next to you?” Adam asked her. She rolled her eyes, and he grinned. “See, that was already better than the glaring.”

“Fuck you,” she grumbled, but at a pointed  _ahem_  from Tess, she sighed and took the microphone. “Fine. So I have a friend. And I wrote her this song at Christmas because she thought she wasn’t good enough for her own angel. Which I don’t even believe in anyway.” 

“That’s okay,” Adam nodded. “You don’t have to.”

She shrugged, staring down at her lap. “It makes a good story, anyway.”

While Puck played quietly on Carl’s acoustic, Sarah sang into the microphone, her voice achingly sweet and unerringly on-pitch throughout the entire song. The room was absolutely silent, even during the funny parts. Kurt was pretty sure no one was going to dare to make a sound, lest they spook Sarah into stopping in the middle of the story. And it was a  _great_  story.

[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kmRkaajdMmE&feature=kp](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kmRkaajdMmE&feature=kp)

_Every Sunday God wakes up to everybody's problems  
_ _All those voices asking for forgiveness  
_ _Half asleep he waves his hand to quickly mass absolve them  
_ _Wondering why he constantly relives this_

_I don't want to take that time away  
_ _From someone who might really need  
_ _A sign from God that day_  

_Angel Michael on his knees  
_ _Trying to find the time to help us  
_ _I don't need such expertise  
_ _I could never be that selfish_

_Isn't there a minor angel  
_ _Not an angel one might miss  
_ _I can talk to, I can turn to  
_ _There to handle this_

_Sunday morning in the choir  
_ _I'm the one who's singing off key  
_ _By my bedside in the darkness  
_ _I will say my prayers so softly  
_ _Isn't there a lonely angel  
_ _Not an angel fully booked  
_ _I can call on, I can sing to  
_ _Someone overlooked_  

 _Just one angel  
_ _Just one angel  
_ _Angel only I can see  
_ _Just one angel  
_ _Just one angel  
_ _Watching over me_  

_Sometimes when my heart is full  
_ _It makes me feel a bit frenetic  
_ _Fallen angel takes the bullet  
_ _Wouldn't that be so poetic  
_ _Isn't there a private angel  
_ _Unremembered, underused  
_ _Second angel, No one's angel  
_ _Someone God excused_

_Just one angel  
_ _Just one angel  
_ _Angel only I can see  
_ _Just one angel  
_ _Just one angel  
_ _Watching over me_  

_All those days and nights  
_ _God slaved to give us creature comforts  
_ _Why would we have free will  
_ _If he thought we'd always call  
_ _Maybe it's a lack of sleep  
_ _That keeps him feeling vengeful  
_ _Maybe he'd be sweet and soft  
_ _If he could have his Sundays off_

_Just one angel  
_ _Just one angel  
_ _Angel only I can see  
_ _Just one angel  
_ _Just one angel  
_ _Watching over me_

When he was done applauding, Adam wiped his eyes on his zebra-striped sleeve, and reached for Sarah’s hand.

“You let me sit there in Tess’ library and try to lecture you about poetry,” he said, “when you’d  _already_  written that? I mean, you rhymed  _poetic_  with  _frenetic.”_  He shook his head helplessly. “Genius.”

Sarah tilted her head. “I just wanted to see how much of an ass you could make of yourself?”  

There was a snort from the other side of the circle, but Kurt wasn’t going to hunt the culprit down. Sarah sighed.

“Seriously, nothing I said was a lie. Yes, you’re a terrible lyricist.  _And_  it’s all way better when you sing it.  _And_  you’re still awesome on stage. And —“ She stopped, looking at Puck, who nodded at her. She swallowed. “And I wrote something for, um, you. That’s as dorky or dorkier than the sappiest thing Neil Diamond ever wrote. And I think we should just sing it and get it over with before I throw up, okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” Puck agreed quickly.  

Adam kept hold of Sarah’s hand. She didn’t look at him, but instead fixed her eyes on Puck while they wound harmonies around one another, humming. And then Puck opened his mouth and began to sing.

 _Out of my darkness  
_ _There is the faintest hint of you  
_ _Singing into loneliness and shame  
_ _A fragile bridge, a gleam of light_  

 _I am here, and you I hear  
_ _I am near, and you are dear  
_ _You are the answer to my fear_  

The chorus was built with echoes between the two of them, close harmonies, ever rising in pitch, but never more than a fourth apart. In combination with the harmonics created by Puck’s fingers hammering on the neck of his guitar, it produced an etherial effect that made the hair stand up on Kurt’s neck. He found himself holding Finn’s hand all over again.

 _Into my shadows  
_ _The soul of you shines  
_ _My path of flight closes  
_ _Leaving only the road to you_  

 _I am here, and you I hear  
_ _I am near, and you are dear  
_ _You are the answer to my fear_  

The second chorus layered the lyrics with more rhythmic complexity, beginning on beat two, then three, then four, and each time the harmonies and dissonances still worked. Kurt found himself layering on a third part in his head, not daring to try it out in the middle of their debut performance, but he was already planning how he was going to corner Sarah and Puck at home to work on it.  

 _Reaching up to my hope  
_ _Faith in you beckons  
_ _Bound silent and strong  
_ _A morning star in the darkness_  

_I am here, and you I hear  
_ _I am near, and you are dear  
_ _You are the answer to my fear_

_You, you are the answer to my fear_

He was so wrapped up in his musical excitement that Kurt almost missed Adam’s reaction to the song.  In the middle of the third verse, Adam began to harmonize with Puck, just simple thirds and sixths, but it made Sarah look up at him.  When she nodded, he sang more strongly.  And on the chorus, he mirrored Sarah’s part an octave lower, which gave it an entirely different resonance.  Puck dropped the guitar entirely when Adam joined in, and they did the last chorus  _a cappella._

“Oh,” Sarah said, grinning at him into the silence that followed. “That was so much better than I thought it was going to be.” 

Adam engulfed Sarah in an enormous hug, and she hung on while the room burst into applause.  

“I’m really not sure how to follow that,” Carl admitted.  

Sarah looked up from Adam’s embrace long enough to remind him, “You said you’d do  _your_  angel song.”  

“Oh, I did. That’s right.” He didn’t look exactly flustered, but Carl took his time picking out the guitar part. Kurt thought even Tess looked a little uncomfortable. But Finn seemed perfectly happy to let Carl go ahead and sing the Billy Joel song, and both he and Puck sang harmony along with him.

 _<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nlto_85nGa4>_  

_And like a boat out on the ocean  
_ _I’m rocking you to sleep  
_ _The water’s dark and deep  
_ _Inside this ancient heart  
_ _You’ll always be a part of me_

“I think the Carpenters might be next,” he warned.  

“No, no,” said Lydia, “that angel song by the Pretenders. Angel of the Morning, something like that?” 

“Oh, god.” Adam pressed his lips together. “You really are going to make me cry.”

“Is this a goal?” Carl challenged. “In that case, I can pull out bigger guns than Angel of the Morning, but we’ll start with this. You’ll sing along, Finn?” 

“Kurt, you too,” Adam urged, already hunting for the lyrics on his phone. Kurt leaned in close enough to read over his shoulder — and he was crying by the time Adam sang the second line.

<http://youtu.be/-Zj07fi-FA0?t=1m> 

_There'll be no strings to bind your hands  
_ _Not if my love can find your heart  
_ _And there's no need to take a stand  
_ _For it was I who choose to start  
_ _I see no need to take me home  
_ _I'm old enough to face the dawn_

_Just call me angel of the morning, angel  
_ _Just touch my cheek before you leave me, baby  
_ _Just call me angel of the morning, angel  
_ _Then slowly turn away from me_  

“That rivals Soaked for best one-night-stand song,” Kurt told him when they were done, accepting Stephen’s offer of a box of tissues before passing it on to Carole. “And Carl, if you have heavier ammunition than that, I might as well stop trying to sing right now.”

“I do.” Carl’s eyes flashed at Adam. “Try Art Garfunkel.” 

Adam and Carl were clearly trying to out-schmoop one another, but the effect of their collective crooner voices singing together was more beautiful than ridiculous. Kurt decided not to tell them that the song they’d chosen had been in the “Chicken Little” movie when he was eleven, and just listened.

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8IanZD91PoY>

_I bruise you, you bruise me_  
 _We both bruise so easily_  
 _Too easily to let it show_  
 _I love you and that's all I know_  

_All my plans keep falling through_   
_All my plans depend on you_   
_Depend on you to help them grow_   
_I love you and that's all I know_

_When the singer's gone_    
 _Let the song go on_

 _It's a fine line between the darkness and the dawn_    
 _They say in the darkest night, there's a light beyond_  

_But the ending always comes at last_   
_Endings always come too fast_   
_They come too fast but they pass too slow_   
_I love you and that's all I know_

_That's all I know_    
 _That's all I know_  

“I think that beats the Pretenders,” Burt said. His voice sounded a little shaky. The tissue box had made it around the circle at least twice now.  

“Do we have time for one more?” asked Adam. Burt thought about it. 

“I think if you think you can pack quickly,” he decided. “And by quickly, realize I’m the man who raised Kurt, so I have a reasonable span of time in my head, here.”

“Check.” Adam turned to Carl. “We’re sitting here in a circle, and… you know that Kate Wolf song, ‘Give Yourself to Love?’ The one everybody does at weddings?” 

“Oh —“ Carl stopped talking. There was a rumble of sympathetic laughter from Tess’ family’s side. He buried his face in one hand. “Okay, Adam. You win.”

“They sang that together at their wedding,” James said. “Carl and Shelby.”

Adam looked startled.  “You were married?”

“Ancient history,” Carl groaned.  He was already picking a pattern with his fingers, not even looking at the frets.  “I can play it.  Just  _sing it,_  and get it over with.  I’m not going to be of any use to you, trust me.” 

Finn and Puck looked fascinated, watching the expressions that crossed Carl’s face while Adam sang the unfamiliar lyrics. Kurt let himself imagine ginger-haired Adam in high school, singing that song at somebody’s wedding, and nestled close to Finn and let the tears flow while Adam and Carl performed the last song.

[ _https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LCVDUOA37IY_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LCVDUOA37IY)

_Kind friends all gathered 'round, there's something I would say  
_ _What brings us together here has blessed us all today  
_ _Love has made a circle that holds us all inside  
_ _When strangers are as family and loneliness can't hide_  

 _You must give yourself to love  
_ _If love is what you're after  
_ _Open up your hearts to the tears and laughter  
_ _And give yourself to love  
_ _Give yourself to love_  

 _I've walked these mountains in the rain  
_ _I've learned to love the wind  
_ _I've been up before the sunrise to watch the day begin  
_ _I always knew I'd find you though I never did know how  
_ _Like sunshine on a cloudy day you stand before me now_  

 _Love is born in fire; it’s planted like a seed  
_ _Love can't give you everything but it gives you what you need  
_ _Love comes when you are ready, love comes when you're afraid  
_ _It will be your greatest teacher, the best friend you have made_  

 _So give yourself to love  
_ _If love is what you're after  
_ _Open up your hearts to the tears and laughter  
_ _And give yourself to love  
_ _Give yourself to love_  

Tess stood up amidst the last scattered applause, holding up her hands. “Thank you, all. I won’t permit maudlin goodbyes in the middle of my dining hall, especially not when I’m  _certain_  we’ll all see one another again soon.” She glared at the boys. “Go, get packed, and we’ll save the tears for the foyer.”

* * *

Adam was the first one downstairs, but he was joined quickly by an empty-handed Carl.  Adam looked around.  “Where are your bags?”

“I’m staying here,” Carl said. He stuck his hands in his pockets, shrugging matter-of-factly. “Tess has more business with me.”

“Ah,” Adam said, deciding to be tactful. He was pretty certain, after all he’d been through with Carl that weekend, that it would be okay to bring up their disciplinary relationship, but he didn’t want to cross any lines when they were already feeling so emotionally charged from the singing. “Well, I guess… this is goodbye, then?”

They hugged, not holding on any longer than would have been appropriate for two gay men who had already been naked in the same bed together.  

“Thanks for everything,” Adam said quietly, not exactly sure what he was referring to, but Carl seemed to accept it anyway, nodding.

“I’ll be back in Lima in a few days. I’ll keep an eye on your boys, let you know if they’re struggling.”

This kind of promise didn’t make it any easier for Adam to keep his cool. He nodded back, not trusting his voice. “Thank you,” he managed at last.

“I think they’re in a better emotional place than they were in before you arrived, anyway. If that counts for anything.”

“Yeah. I think it does. I mean, they have their family, but I’m glad I’m able to give them something.”

Carl’s hand brushed his chest, over the spot where the tattoos were, healing under their shirts. “You’re part of their family, too.”

He tried to keep his laugh from being too bitter, but by the expression on Carl’s face, he doubted he succeeded. He turned his face away, focusing on the wall, where an old framed picture of Tessera hung.  

“What?”

“This isn’t ever going to be my family, Carl.”

“It could be.” He felt Adam move around him, close enough to touch his shoulder. “Puck… he’s your boy. And Kurt…”

“Boys grow up and start their own families.” He took a resolute breath. “Which is as it should be. And I’ll love them both as long and as hard as they’ll let me. I’ll be gracious.”

“Mmmm.”  

Adam turned quickly to eye Carl, who’d sounded far too amused, but he looked calm enough. “If you have something to say, this is your chance. You might as well not waste it.”

“I’m just seeing us both, loving these young men, giving them our care, our discipline…” Carl smiled at Adam. “And they all have such control over us.”

“And we love it,” Adam agreed, with a sigh. This time they did laugh. There were limits to the amount of melodrama Adam would tolerate from himself.    

“So I won’t be able to bring you to the airport, back in Lima,” Carl told him. “But I spoke with Burt, and Carole will be happy to drive you.”

 _Carole._  Even she had become dear to him. He wasn’t going to think about Sarah’s song. “Thank you. I’m not sure when I’ll make it back into town, but… I imagine we’ll be in touch.”

“I imagine. We’ll see you on stage at some point?” Carl raised an eyebrow. “I’d bring Finn to your concert, if you end up passing through Ohio.”

“If the tour goes through, I’ll send as many tickets as I can get away with.” He smiled ruefully. “It’s bound to last at least through the summer. I know it’s my dream come to life, but it seems like a long time to think about being on the road.”

“Well, you know what they say about time and things that fly.” Carl reached out to take Adam’s bag. “Come on. I’ll help you get loaded into the car before the boys get downstairs and we both become useless again.”

* * *

 _Time cannot break the bird's wing from the bird.  
_ _Bird and wing together  
_ _Go down, one feather._  

 _No thing that ever flew,  
_ _Not the lark, not you,  
_ _Can die as others do._  

_\- Edna St. Vincent Millay, “To a Young Poet”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adam Lambert, “Music Again,” acoustic live: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8_KmLn_FDh0  
> Adam Lambert, “Just the Way It Is” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y1phcRw3HtU  
> Adam Lambert, “By The Rules,” bonus track from Trespassing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8oSawKY1qCw  
> Adam Lambert, “Better Than I Know Myself,” acoustic live: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=goopbH6QREo
> 
> Boston, “More Than A Feeling” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fm_-sW4Vktw  
> Jackson Browne, “Running on Empty” http://youtu.be/jC-pkV1s0Zc?t=29s  
> Andrew Ratshin, “Just One Angel” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kmRkaajdMmE&feature=kp  
> Billy Joel, “Goodnight My Angel,” performed by John Stamos https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nlto_85nGa4  
> “Angel of the Morning,” performed by Girlyman: http://youtu.be/-Zj07fi-FA0?t=1m  
> Art Garfunkel, “All I Know,” performed by Five for Fighting: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8IanZD91PoY  
> Kate Wolf, “Give Yourself to Love,” performed by Capo D: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LCVDUOA37IY


End file.
